The 12th
by MysteryWriter815
Summary: Post-Knockout. There will be a new Captain, a tense air and a whole bunch of new and old Caskett feelings that we all love. Romance/Humor/Drama/Hurt/Comfort
1. Chapter 1

_Author's Notes: __Post-Knockout from the perspective of an Australian who has not yet been blessed with the final few episodes of season 3. Shocking, I know. I have grasped the general storyline of the final though, so hopefully I'm on track._

_This is my first Castle fanfic and pretty much my first fic too, unless you count one I wrote about Lost when I was about 14.__ Whilst constructive criticism would be appreciated, please keep this in mind as you read my ramblings and don't judge too harshly. I hope you enjoy or are at least entertained by what I intend will develop into a story that sticks relatively close to character._

_This first chapter may be a little slow and descriptive but I felt it was necessary in setting the scene so please stick with it! I have a bunch of ideas to lighten the mood in the coming chapters._

Chapter 1

The precinct clock inevitably crept towards 1 AM as Kate Beckett sat hunched at her desk attempting to do paperwork. Shadows sat long and ominous; undisturbed by the rest of the long gone homicide detectives who had more than an empty apartment and haunting memories to go home to.

Three months had passed since they had lost Captain Montgomery. Three months since a bullet had torn through Kate's own body at his funeral. Three months since she had been fighting an internal battle about whether or not Castle had actually said- no. He couldn't have.

Her hand met her hair in an exasperated threading as the paperwork was finally considered to be a lost cause. Johanna Beckett's ring hung low on the chain around Kate's tired neck, residing over the slowly fading bullet wound. That hole had left her feeling even more alone than when she'd first acquired the ring. The Captain was gone. Josh was gone. Castle was…distant. And her father disapproved of her job even more now than ever.

If she was honest, it was this loneliness which had her alone at the precinct at this hour. Of course though, she told herself that it was an attempt to prove to her colleagues that she was still capable of doing most of her normal detective work. Kate Beckett was not a weak woman by any definition of the word. In fact, she prided herself on her strength; a characteristic she'd learnt from her mother at an early age. The doctor's light duty orders had stung almost as much as the bullet itself. Little did she know that they had had 24 hour security surveillance on her since the shooting. Or maybe she did but was stubbornly ignoring that fact because of the weakness it would imply.

With both palms on her desk, the detective pushed the chair backwards before slowly rising to her feet. Every muscle ached and her heels suddenly felt too tight. Slipping each one off, she carried them with her fingertips as she padded in stocking covered feet to the break room. The lights in the room were already off so she sunk into the cheap fabric of the couch before pulling the NYPD issued blanket off the back of it and across her body. It smelt like sweat and aftershave; like most things in her male dominated world. She didn't even want to fathom the last time it had been washed, if ever.

Beckett could admit that this makeshift bed was not as comfortable as her own, but its location offered something that she couldn't get at home. The exhaustion of the day – no, the past three months – finally weighed her eyelids down and sleep came somewhat easily between the four walls of the 12th.

Richard Castle strode into the bullpen with coffees in hand as though he owned the place. Although it had become his second home over the past few years, his entrance was mostly an act for the benefit of the new Captain. They did not see eye-to-eye, to say the least. What right did she have to under value Kate Beckett? She did not know Kate Beckett. _He_ knew Kate Beckett. Her worth. Her extraordinary character. Her hotness.

"Where's Beckett this fine morning, boys?"

"Break room. Asleep." Ryan muttered from behind his computer screen. The air in the bullpen had been tense since the loss of their old Captain and had not eased with the arrival of the new.

Redirecting himself towards the break room, instead of his side-kick seat next to her desk, Castle asked the obvious question. "It's nearly 9 AM, why didn't you guys wake her?"

It was Esposito's turn to offer an answer. "You think we're that stupid, bro? She'd have us for breakfast!"

He chuckled. They were probably right.

The bustle of the precinct was muffled as Castle entered the dull break room. A single square of light slithered through the gaps around the curtained window, casting a soft light on Kate's sleeping figure. As he knelt next to the couch he placed the coffees on the small table and couldn't help but smile at her stocking covered feet peaking out from under the navy blanket. He hadn't seen her look so peaceful since…he couldn't remember when.

Stretching out a hesitant hand to gently shake her shoulder, he whispered softly. "Kate?"

Survival instincts had been running constantly for the past few months. She woke instantly, squinting at the harsh fluorescent light coming in from the hallway.

"Castle? What time is it?"

"9 AM. How many nights have you spent on this couch, Kate?"

Even in her drowsy state, she knew to ignore his question. She sat up a little with her back against the arm of the chair. Crap, 9 AM?

"Why didn't anyone wake me?" She managed to say between yawning and stretching out her body with her arms above her head. It was one of those stretches you do to wake yourself up when you'd be more than content to stay in bed all day.

With her actions, her shirt rose slightly to reveal a thin strip of her lower stomach and at that sight Richard Castle forced himself to turn around and grab the coffees from the table. She swung her feet over the edge of the couch so that she was in a sitting position and he handed her one of the paper cups. He reminded himself that he did not get to marvel at these simple manners of beauty anymore. He was the reason she lost Josh. He should have protected her.

Her hair was a wild mess of chocolate waves as she ran her hand through it, trying to calm the storm inside her head which matched the one in his. With two long sips of coffee, Beckett placed the cup back on the table and levered her heels into the shoes that had been discarded on the floor beside the couch. He offered his hands to pull her to her feet, feeling a brief stab of uncertainty in the pit of his stomach. The inappropriate invasions of personal space had stopped months ago, along with the subtle touches that they had shared for the past few years.

For the moment, her question laid forgotten as they continued the awkward dance they had been doing since the incident. Castle had sat by her hospital bed for hours each day, even when she had protested. He brought her the best non-solid foods he could find and supplied her with a constant selection of books from his own library. He hadn't even brought one of his own novels; a feeble yet determined attempt to show her that this was not an ego boosting act. He was there for her. Always.

Josh had finally snapped a few days after the hospital had discharged her and the visits continued at her apartment. He had returned to her place after a long and stressful shift only to find Writer-Boy there, again. His girlfriend would not accept help from him, yet he had found them with her arm around his shoulders as he assisted her to move around the apartment. The Doctor had exploded with a level of fury which Kate had not seen before. Words were slung high and low from all directions as the men had a verbal fight which neither would admit was over Kate Beckett's heart.

Somehow, the night ended with Kate sitting alone on her bed with nobody left to charade her happiness to. Hot tears had burnt paths down her cheeks as she found herself wondering how she had lost the two most important men in her life on the same night. If she was honest, she knew that one meant a whole lot more than the other and that she was not lament after having told Josh to leave. He had driven Castle away because he could not accept their partnership. She could not love someone who didn't understand her.

Castle heaved Beckett to her feet and, unstable from sleep, she leant into him for a moment. A whole conversation passed between them in the brief second that their eyes met and she suddenly felt nervous with the closeness of him.

Pulling away to once again grab her coffee from where she'd placed it on the table. She nodded, raising her cup to him in appreciation. "Thanks."

_Author's Notes: So that's chapter 1. Assuming I have any readers, please leave me a comment and let me know what you thought!__ I was once told I was a melodramatic writer, so I hope I didn't bore you with my words. I googled gun shot recovery times and 3 months seems to be mostly on par with what I read without having the story start a huge time after the end of season 3. Also, I would never normally say 'couch' (I would say 'lounge'), but it seemed fitting since the show is American…_

_Once again assuming, if you want to read more please let me know what you want more of. I intend for it to be predominantly Caskett, but how __in depth would you like me to write case related stuff?_


	2. Chapter 2

_Author's Notes: __Ok, wow! I seriously did not expect the response I got for the first chapter of this story. It was close to midnight when I submitted it because of the whole 'wait 48 hours after signing up before you can publish stories' thing. When I got up the next morning my inbox was full of review/story alert/author alert/favourite story/favourite author emails! Like, WHAT? That's just crazy. I can't even come up with the words to thank you guys, but you should know that I appreciate it immensely._

_I have my final university exam (for the semester) tomorrow so I haven't had a chance to reply to each of the reviews, but thank you for taking the time to review and I will try and get back to each of you asap!__ I figured if I was going to take a break from studying you'd rather a new chapter than replies to reviews? So here it is…chapter 2. =)_

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><p>Emerging from the break room, Castle followed his muse like a lost puppy as she sifted through her bottom draw for the pre-ironed clothes that she kept in there as spare. He made sure that he maintained a respectable distance as he followed. He hadn't liked the startled look on her face as she had abruptly removed herself from the bubble that they had juxtaposed unintentionally.<p>

The following continued with a furrowed brow as he pondered her reaction. They were suddenly away from her desk and she was levelling a glare at him.

"Castle, what are you doing?"

Coming out of his thoughts, it took a few seconds to put the pieces together. He looked between her face and the pile of clothes in her hands a couple of times before a crooked grin pulled itself into place on his face. "I thought I had following privileges."

Beckett's witty comebacks had been coming slower since the world had become ten shades darker in the past few months. Instead, she offered her infamous eye roll and continued on her way to the precinct locker rooms. She made a mental note to hide the key to her bottom draw. He'd been attempting to find out what kind of underwear she wore since he had, rather inappropriately, shared at a murder scene that he wore boxers.

._._._._._._.

Dressed in a fresh pair of trousers and a light blue button up, the detective returned from the showers. Walking through the bull pen, she noticed that the new Captain's office door was shut. As she passed the wide stretch of windows that offered very little privacy, Beckett's eyes made a subtle shift inside. Ryan and Esposito sat like school boys getting grilled by the principal in front of Captain Harrison; she-devil.

She returned to her desk with her bottom lip between her teeth in a concerned expression. Castle was leaning with his hip on her desk, staring at the murder board. Grabbing the case file off a pile, she propped herself up on the edge next to him and followed suit without really looking at the spider web of facts.

He turned to her with an excited face, "I have a theory!"

"The boys are in the devil's lair."

"Oh." His face fell as he attempted to read hers.

Her brow was knitted, her lip was still between her teeth and her shoulders sat higher than usual in a tense gesture. Beckett twisted her torso so that she could look back towards the Captain's office. Castle leaned backwards around her and they both sat staring, not so subtly, until he asked.

"What do you think they're talking about?"

Before she could answer, the door they were boring holes through with their eyes opened and the two male detectives promptly exited, returning to their desks. Without a word they glanced towards the other two in front of the murder board and did little to offer encouragement as Harrison herself stepped into the hallway.

"Beckett. Castle. A word?" The new Captain used a questioning tone that implied you got an option. After just three months under her, everyone in the precinct knew that you didn't.

Still clutching the file, Beckett slide off the desk and the pair cautiously followed her into the office. It still didn't feel right to call it her office. This would always be Montgomery's office. Kate almost looked for the family photos that Roy always had around the room but stopped her self, knowing she would not find them anymore. He was gone.

In a weakened state from her recent thoughts about the old captain, she stood shoulder to shoulder with Castle in front of Harrison's desk. The Captain waved a hand to tell them to sit but both remained standing. Sitting would make this feel too much like the interrogations that they conducted themselves.

The blonde woman made herself comfortable in the big chair behind her desk before even considering returning her attention back to them. Leaning back so that she was sitting as tall as possible in the chair with her arms folded across her chest, she finally began to speak.

"I've been here long enough now to have gotten to know you all," Beckett made a barely audible scoff. Harrison didn't want to get to know anyone but her new power status. "And what you're capable of. To date, I haven't seen anything too impressive from either of you."

Castle jumped to both of their defences before Beckett even had time to open her mouth. "Our Captain just got killed. Beckett got shot. She's injured!"

Steadying her gaze on Beckett, Harrison pushed forward with a challenging tone. "If you're not capable of doing your job detective, why are you here?"

He tensed beside Beckett as she gripped the folder she was carrying until her knuckles turned white.

"Oh, I'm capable, Captain. Put me back on normal duties." She replied through gritted teeth.

"Done."

"Beckett-" he started.

She shot him a glare which very loudly told him to shut the hell up if he wanted to live. "Excellent."

Beckett made a hasty exit, leaving Castle in the new Captain's office in an awkward state of flipping his head from woman to woman with mouth agape. This was not good. She wasn't ready. Three months was not long enough. He didn't know if it would ever be long enough. _He_ wasn't ready.

._._._._._._.

"Alexis had a teacher that hated her once."

The writer and the detective sat knee to knee at a small table in a Chinese place a few blocks from the 12th. By the time lunch had come around both had needed a break from the tense air in the precinct, brought about by Harrison's interrogations that had been taking place all morning.

Beckett had been pacing in front of the murder board for an hour. She kept glancing between the phone on her desk and the boys across the bull pen, waiting for a call-out. The meeting had left her itching to prove herself and they hadn't had a new case all day. Instead, they sifted through the paperwork of ongoing cases and followed up leads via phone calls.

She sat across from him scowling with one elbow on the table and her hand on her forehead. "What did she do about it?"

"Besides me signing a hard cover of Stormfall?" He paused to watch her roll her eyes, the scowl not leaving her face. "She was just really, really nice to the teacher. How can you hate someone who's being nice to you? Especially Alexis."

"I'm not going to be nice to Harrison."

He half heartedly smiled at her response to his story, which was the only thing he could think of to say at the time. "I figured you'd say that. She's worse than my mother."

"You're mother is nothing like her."

The waiter arrived and placed their meals on the table in front of them. "Can I get you anything else?"

Beckett gave a small shake of her head, not lifting her eyes from the table.

"We're good, thanks." Castle showed his pearly whites to the young woman. He waited until she was gone before returning his focus back to Beckett. "Really, Kate, don't let her phase you. She's new. She just hasn't learnt how extraordinary you are yet. I bet even Montgomery had his reservations about you at first; strapping young female detective? He probably thought you were a stripper."

This brought a hearty laugh up from the darkness in her stomach as she remembered some of the early days at the 12th. "You have no idea." She snapped the join between the two wooden chopsticks lying on her napkin and together they ate in a comfortable silence. The silence was finally broken as she met his gaze across the table. "Thanks, Castle."

"For what?"

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><p><em>Author's Notes: <em>_I just noticed that I ended both chapters with her thanking him. That wasn't intentional but I think it works anyway? The first scene of this chapter originally involved Castle and a bra…I cut it out though because I didn't like how it sat on the timeline. It didn't portray the type of awkwardness I'm aiming for…_

_Just a little side note about chapter__ 1; I didn't realise until after I'd posted it that the page break that was suppose to be between the night and the morning scenes got deleted. No one commented on that, so I'm not going to change it, but I'll keep an eye out for it in the future for ease of reading. _

_- Amy =)_


	3. Chapter 3

_Author's Notes: __Thanks so much for the feedback, alerts and favourites again guys! Keep 'em coming (they mean the world) and I hope you're enjoying it so far. Sorry it's been a few days since the last update, I was doing my homework (finally watching the episodes I hadn't seen yet lol)._

_This chapter doesn't have a whole lot of dialogue but I hope you'll like it anyway because of the thoughts__ I tried to express…_

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><p>"Thanks, Castle."<p>

"For what?"

There were so many ways she could answer that question. For making her laugh. For saving her life; several times. For pushing her even when she didn't think she needed to be pushed. For bringing her coffee. For welcoming her into his home when hers had been blown to smithereens. For supporting her when she had completely broken down on the night that Montgomery was killed. For wriggling his stubborn ass way into her life when most people would have stopped dead at the 'no entry' sign that hung to every thread of her tough exterior.

That last point made her falter in the mental list she had been forming. She looked around the dainty restaurant for the first time since they had sat down. The interior of the building was decorated in rich red walls with golden Chinese symbols painted across them. Considering it was lunch time, only a sparse number of people sat around the other small tables. This place was always quiet, that's why they'd chosen it. Two uniforms sat at a table by the door; strategically facing the back of the room where Kate sat with the man she knew was responsible for their presence, at least partially. Paper dragons hung low from the ceiling above their heads as she wondered what the walls said. Realising that Castle was still waiting for an answer, she dipped her head so that a veil of hair fell around her face, erasing the long shadows that her eyelashes had been making on her cheekbones under the dull light.

She knew that this was not the time, nor the person to offer a generic response which would give little of a real answer. He was one of very few who had bothered to push past the barriers she had built around herself since her mother's murder. And boy did she know how hard that was. Reinforced bullet proof steel walls with the worlds most difficult combination lock, and yet somehow he had charmed his way inside with his sweet antics and persistency.

So she met his eyes once more and almost whispered the most honest answer she was prepared to say at that moment. "For standing by me."

A softness touched at the corners of his eyes and she caught it in the brief second it lasted before a shadow bled darkness across the seas of blue. His brow sunk low over his eyes as they shifted away from hers and to his hands on the table which sat like dead fish holding chopsticks. She'd seen that look before. Guilt. It had aged him more times than she could count over the past few months.

"No, I…" Castle shook his head lamely, searching for the right words.

He had not stood by her. He was the reason she had lost Josh. Although some minute part of him found joy in their break-up, it had hurt her. It only added to his guilt. He shouldn't have fought with Josh. He should have seen the sniper and stopped him before she got shot. He should have known that someone would come after her. He should have insisted that she wore a vest. Or better yet, he should have wrapped her in bubble wrap and locked her up like Rapunzel.

Their eyes found each others again and everything he had been trying to say was understood without the need of a single word.

"No, Rick, it's not your fault."

None of it was his fault. His guilt was now mirrored on her face. Why was he feeling guilty? She was the one allowing him to get into these life threatening situations; these awkward yelling matches with men who she let believe that they had a chance with her. Yet, somehow, she could not bring her self to walk away from him.

Although so much was still unspoken of, the air somehow seemed clearer between them. For the first time in months they could each see a glimmer of hope that their strong partnership had not been lost amongst the rubble of a disaster.

._._._._._._._.

Lunch had ended in a mutual silence as both sat chewing over their own issues, mostly involving the other. Although one was a writer and the other was an avid reader, words had never come openly between them. Not about anything even mildly related to a 'them' anyway. They had all but accepted that in an argument months ago.

After paying they had risen simultaneously, donned their coats and headed towards the door where the warmth of the restaurant would leave their bodies as soon as the harsh wind slapped them in the face on exit. Castle had subtly nodded to the uniforms on the way out; a gesture which had not gone unnoticed by her. Outside on the pavement, Beckett pulled each side of her coat further closed around herself as Castle shoved his hands deep into the pockets of his suit jacket. He offered her his elbow as he had so many other times and she took it, grateful for the warmth that his closeness offered.

It was only a short walk back to her car but the pair walked slowly, in no hurry to return to the precinct. There was a time in the past when she would have used her grip on his elbow to hurry him along but things had changed. Solving murders was still top priority and always would be, but Montgomery's death and Harrison's arrival had changed things. The NYPD's top female detective was destined for the inevitable power struggle with a new alpha. Her injury had left her feeling weak; defensive. The new boss couldn't understand why famous author Richard Castle was there and at first she had tried to remove him from her precinct. Kate Beckett would not allow this, despite the fact that she had tried to do the same thing in her early days working with him. A heated argument had been the result; hence the nickname she-devil. But he had been allowed to stay, so she hadn't regretted her behaviour.

Neither had yet acknowledged that they had both been in arguments regarding the other.

Neither had yet acknowledged the words that he had cried out as she lay bleeding out in his arms on the grass at Montgomery's funeral…

They approached the car and she reluctantly broke their connection to unlock the car and slide inside. Silence remained as they clipped their seatbelts with an unbelievably loud snap that briefly pierced the quiet air in the car. Castle wondered if he had suddenly gained super hearing powers before deciding that his new found ability was only due to the silence he was not use to with Beckett. He reached to turn the radio dial on the dashboard and she lightly slapped his hands away only to do it herself.

"Don't touch; you know what happened last time." She smirked at his offended expression.

"It was an accident!"

He had turned on her radio and momentarily deafened them. Some rock song had come on so he decided to turn the volume up as high as it would go. He'd wanted to see the so called rebellious Beckett that he'd only heard snippets about. With the glare she shot him he had turned the volume down and hastily apologised. She hadn't noticed the grin on is face as her ears rang for moments later.

"What ever you say, Castle." Maybe she had seen it after all.

They pulled out from the curb and into the busy New York traffic. Castle tapped his hands on his thighs to the beat of the music. He would never admit it to her, but he loved it when she drove; which was nearly always. The way her slender fingers slid over the steering wheel in a graceful motion did not match her race car driver moves on a chase, yet both were uniquely her. He watched as she reached for the controls and turned the heat up before swivelling the vent so that it aimed right at her cold hands on the wheel.

Noticing his following eyes she flipped her head to the side where she found a smile on his face before quickly turning her attention back to the road. "What?"

"Nothing."

The ringing of her phone saved him from any further questioning.

"Beckett." She listened for a second before saying, "Ok, we're on our way." and slipping the phone back into the pocket inside of her coat.

"Has a murder brought that radiant smile to your face, detective?"

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><p><em>Author's notes: Pleeeeease review! <em>_I'm not feeling overly confident in my writing at the moment (and I'm trying not to slip into clichés) so I'd love to know what you all think._

_I do have a plan in my head for where this is going, and when we finally get there (shouldn't be too long) there should be a lot mor__e fluffy Caskett scenes. Possibly a few nights under the same roof..._

_I know I've been replying to reviews individually (I hope that's good etiquette here? I'm still learning.), but thought I'd address DeadPigeon here just in case anyone else was wondering the same thing about the new captain. Honestly, I'm not 100% how to answer your question. I guess the way I've written Harrison is kind of based off of the assumption that, from what I've heard, most people don't expect to like her next season. As for you feeling that it's Beckett who has the problem with her, you're not entirely wrong. I like how __Sanctuarywilliam101 put it__, "alphas will always but heads", so I tried to work along with that in order to add a little bit more explanation in this chapter. From my experience also, new bosses aren't exactly loved by most people at first because 'nobody can replace the old boss' and I felt that would be especially fitting here seeing as Montgomery died. I'm still finding my feet with creative writing because the majority of things I've written over the past 2 or so years have been scientific reports, so thanks bud; your reviews make me think deeper about what I'm writing._


	4. Chapter 4

_Author's Notes: __This chapter was originally longer because I have actually written more but I don't have time to finish it right now so I decided to cut it in half. I figured that would be better than making you wait even longer for an update. I hope you like it._

_Also, I just realised I hadn't done a disclaimer so…  
><em>

_Disclaimer: I obviously don't own or have anything to do with the show, unfortunately._

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><p>Detective Beckett barely had time to register the cruiser pulling up behind her own vehicle as she sprang onto the footpath and swung her door shut with a bang. The black and white that had been lingering in her rear view mirror all the way from the Chinese restaurant had not gone unnoticed but she did not mention it to the man sitting beside her. It was not the time. They were on their way to her first murder scene in months. This was a time for her to prove herself.<p>

She took off before her passenger had even exited the vehicle. Determined heels pierced the hard concrete of the sidewalk as Castle hurried to keep up. She paused for the briefest of moments to duck under the police tape, not stopping long enough to wait for him to do the same at the mouth of the alley.

Kate Beckett greeted the murder scene like an old friend. It reminded Castle a little too much of the day he nearly lost his muse. Flashing lights. Screaming. Blood. Lots of blood.

He shivered involuntarily with the unease sitting like a brick in the pit of his stomach. Finally catching up, he walked to stand beside her. Even for their old standards it was probably inappropriately close but he longed to slip his hand into hers. He wanted to wrap his fingers around her dainty wrist and feel the steady thumping of her pulse beneath the skin. He wanted to know she was alive. He knew it was irrational. She was quite obviously alive and breathing right beside him where she spoke to Lanie and the boys about the victim. Swallowing the lump in his throat, he settled for simply feeling the warmth of life seep through the fabric of her coat as he forced himself to focus on the case.

"ID says Rosemary Gale, 30. She's stone cold; my guess is she's been out here all night, but in this weather I can't be sure until we get her back to the morgue. Cause of death looks obvious," Lanie rattled off the information she had already accumulated since arriving at the scene. "but I'll double check it just in case, as always."

They all took a moment to observe the body lying at their feet where the medical examiner crouched. The lump returned to Rick's throat as soon as he saw the 30 year old woman lying at an awkward angle with her long brown hair splayed across the bloody concrete. Although aesthetically there weren't really many similarities, she looked too much like his detective had done lying in his arms bleeding out… As soon as his eyes fell upon the savage bullet hole between her eyes he had to look away.

"Good job as always Lanie, thanks." Beckett was in detective mode as she rounded on the boys. "Any witnesses?"

Ryan started. "Only the guy who found her."

Esposito finished off for his partner without skipping a beat. "Came through the alley on his way to lunch, came over to look at an old T.V. sticking out next to the dumpster and then noticed the victim."

Beckett's brow furrowed as she pushed her hair back with her hand and sighed. Why were there never any useful witnesses? Straight to business, she instructed the boys. "Ok, I want all the information you can find on our vic. Why was she here? Where was she going? Boyfriend. Enemies. I want to know about it."

"On it, boss." The two male detectives spun on their heels and strode back into the sunlight at the end of the dark alley.

._._._._._._.

Ryan and Esposito had discovered a boyfriend and a number of other possible suspects. The woman was a lawyer. She had a lot of enemies and that meant a lot of interviews for Beckett and her tag along writer. They'd settled back into their old bickering and innuendo as they'd travelled from precinct to suspect homes and workplaces all afternoon. She was glad that he was there with her. The light hearted comments and jokes he blurted out about random things made the stressful first day back out in the field a little more bearable. She'd seen the look on his face when he'd laid eyes upon the body in the alley. It was obvious to her that his cheery act was a mask for the utter fear and tension that both were feeling, but she was grateful for it.

She spun the wheel tight so that the car angled in towards the curb in front of his building. She parked and killed the engine. It was nearing 8:30 PM when they'd finish the last interview which, like the others, had only given them more questions instead of answers. They had grabbed a bite to eat between stops and she'd offered to drop him home since they were already at his end of town.

Silence would have flooded the car until the windows shattered if it weren't for the ticking of the hot engine cooling in the stark cold air outside. Both stared straight forward out of the windscreen at the street lights illuminating the people crazy enough to be out in this weather.

Kate had always hated these moments. The awkward interim when you dropped someone home or got dropped off your self. In movies, that always seemed to be the time a couple would kiss goodnight or something of some significance would happen. A simple goodbye never seemed to suffice. She finally dropped her hands from the steering wheel and into her lap with a heavy sigh. Her eyes fell with her hands as she wondered what he was thinking.

He sat beside her with his fists lying loosely on his thighs and made no attempt to move from the position he'd been in for the whole car trip. Glancing at the clock on the dash, he wondered what she would say if he asked her up to his loft. It had been a hard day. Not one of the hardest they'd ever shared together, but stressful for more personal reasons. They'd been together all day at work but he didn't want to say goodbye just yet. Before he knew what he was doing the words had begun to slip from his lips and he turned to face her.

"Kate, would you…" He caught her eye but the tired shadows beneath them made him trail off and avert his gaze to the buckle of his seat belt. It was selfish of him to ask for her company when it was simply to ease his own mind. "Would you promise me you'll go home tonight? Get some sleep. Real sleep, I mean."

She watched as he fumbled with the buckle, avoiding her gaze. They both knew it was a cop out. For a moment she'd thought he was going to ask her inside. Hell, she'd hoped he was going to ask her inside. She didn't want to be alone tonight. When his eyes finally lifted back up to hers, she nodded ever so slightly and let a sad smile spread across her lips. He didn't have to know that she'd drive back to the safety of the precinct couch after she'd dropped into her apartment for a change of clothes.

Satisfied with her answer, he untangled himself from the seat belt and reached to open the door. "Until tomorrow, detective."

"Night, Castle."

He was on the sidewalk wrapping his jacket tighter around his body as he hunched against the cold and made his way into the building. Before she knew it he was out of sight and she had nothing left to do but let the loneliness back in. Not even the image of the cruiser in her rear view mirror eased the ache. Pulling out from the gutter, Kate threaded her hand through her hair with a frustrated sigh. She was stronger than this.

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><p><em>Author's notes: FYI, the alley didn't have any video cameras…they checked. As a number of you said you didn't want much case heavy stuff, I tried to breeze over it without going into TOO much detail. I just hope I wasn't too brief.<em>

_Kind of a teaser for you all – I have pages of notes/ideas for this story if you guys want me to keep writing it. These may or may not include a goldfish, game of pool, milk, hoodie or a bed…_


	5. Chapter 5

_Author's Notes: __You are all utterly rad. Thank you all so very much for reviewing and stuff, it gives me the push to continue writing (so keep them coming, please). Ok, after this chapter I'm hoping to get to better Caskett-y stuff! I hope I'm not boring anyone._

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><p>"You bought me a goldfish." It was a statement, not a question.<p>

A package had just been delivered to the precinct and they now stood at her desk with the box labelled 'fragile' discarded at their feet. Kate had spent the night on the break room couch again. She made sure to set the alarm on her phone this time so that she would be awake and showered by the time he got there. Although it grated at her nerves that Castle thought he had the right to worry about her sleeping patterns, she didn't have the heart to tell him she hadn't slept at home. She had instead tossed and turned on the couch until she'd finally given up on sleep and decided to look over what they knew about Rosemary Gale.

"I just thought this place could do with some brightening up." He offered her a sincere smile which she returned with a nod. "Plus, I get bored when you're doing paperwork."

She rolled her eyes and sat down at her desk. "Cry me a river."

Castle slapped his hand on the table and leant over to look into the top of the fish bowl with an excited grin. "Oh! Monty would love a river! Maybe I should buy him a bigger tank."

"Monty?" She rested her chin in her hand as she leaned forward to look at the fish too. It was bright orange with eyes that goggled out of its little head as it swum circles around a miniature statue of a castle. He'd obviously put it in there and a smile pulled at the corners of her mouth as she thought about how typically arrogant of Castle it was. Only he would put something symbolising himself in a gift for her. She didn't mind.

He nodded. "Short for Montgomery. It was either that or Dorothy."

"Dorothy?" she asked with a raised eyebrow. What the hell was he talking about?

"You know; Elmo's goldfish? I use to watch it with Alexis."

With that, she found herself once again smiling at his sweetness which had been showing its head more often over the past couple of months. He'd bought her a goldfish and named it in memory of their departed Captain. Maybe he wasn't so egotistical after all. Definitely annoying, but not arrogant.

Esposito's voice came across the bullpen before she could respond. "Beckett, a kid just came in. Says him and his buddies have a video of our vic from the night she was killed."

._._._._._._.

Writer and detective sat shoulder to shoulder in front of a lanky kid who didn't look a day over thirteen. He hunched in his chair with his hands continuously moving from fidgeting in his lap to his mouth, where he chewed on grimy nails. Although he had an unkempt appearance, Castle couldn't help but notice the way his blonde hair shined like that of a well loved boy. The emblem sticking out underneath his torn denim jacket didn't help his rebel look either. Castle knew it was the emblem of one of New York's most highly regarded schools.

Beckett spoke first. "So, Oliver, you have a video you want to show us?"

Yep, Castle thought, with a name like Oliver he definitely wasn't a street kid.

"It's Ollie." The kid was blunt and suddenly seemed less nervous. "Not Oliver."

"Ok, Ollie. So you and your buddies shot a video?"

"What do I get out of this? Why should I give you the video?" A staring match began between boy and detective. He was trying to act tough.

Beckett could still see his nerves in the way his blue eyes sat like saucers on his little face. The fact that he was here on his own accord made it obvious to her that this was just part of the act. Her response was fast; challenging. "I don't tell your parents that their little boy was out roaming the streets when they thought he was safe in his bed. Deal?"

Ollie took a deep breath of relief which was shaded with more than just the gratefulness that his parents wouldn't find out. The detective had just offered him a way around being called a wimp by his friends for handing over the video. He could now tell them that she forced him. She was going to tell his parents.

Beckett would put money on the fact that someone had once watched Elmo with him. Not for the first time, she considered how lucky Castle was that Alexis was not a typical teenager. It amused her that he seemed so fascinated by her own rebellious stage but was horrified to think that his daughter may have one. If only he knew.

The tough act dropped almost immediately as the boy pulled his backpack from the floor and onto the table with a smack. A laptop materialised and Castle couldn't help but smirk. A street kid definitely wouldn't own a laptop like that.

With a few quick button pushes and an awkward look as he tried to quickly hide the desktop wallpaper of a woman in a bikini, Ollie presented them with a video. It was poor quality, shot on a mobile phone in the monochromatic lighting of the tragic night, but the scene was clear. At first the camera focused on a few boys with Ollie himself. They were performing skateboard tricks on a bench across the street from the mouth of the alley which all members of this small audience were familiar with. The camera man suddenly lost interest in his friends, zooming instead on the dark figures in the shadows of the alley.

As he zoomed the picture quality declined and Castle found himself wondering why a rich boy with the most important evidence they'd found to date had such a poor quality phone camera. He made a mental note to upgrade Alexis' in case she ever found herself in such a situation.

The dark figures could be seen waving their arms around in what could only be interpreted as an argument. Shakiness began to blur the already pixelated image as a gun was pulled on the woman without the slightest act of concealment. Rosemary Gale jerked in a silent motion before she fell to the ground like a sack of potatoes. The shooter exited the other end of the alley. Frozen on the screen was an image of her body laying in the same shadows that masked the identity of her killer.

At this stage, Beckett wasn't confident that this would aid them in the investigation but she thanked the boy anyway and stood to escort him to the tech guys. She informed him that they would make a copy of the video and it would be combed thoroughly for anything solid. The only thing she knew for sure was that a silencer was used, but that was as expected.

Beckett returned to her desk but Castle did not follow as she had expected him to. He had stopped by Ryan and Esposito's desks and she looked over to find the three men discussing something in hushed tones. It looked to her as though Castle was trying to convince them of something. His hands were clasped together in front of his chest and he had a pleading look on his face.

Sitting in her chair, Beckett watched them over the top of her computer screen. Her pen proved a valuable distraction as she chewed its end, but curiosity finally got the better of her. The detective found herself not so casually strolling past the conversation on route to the break room. A coffee was suddenly a necessity despite the fact she'd had one only half an hour beforehand.

Before slipping inside the break room to watch them through the window, Kate overheard a few snippets of their conversation.

Ryan was apologetic. "Sorry man, Jenny wouldn't allow it."

The tone in Esposito's excuse offered nothing of an apology. "My place is too crowded already and I've got…commitments. No can do." All who heard were aware of the fact that his 'crowd' and 'commitments' were none other than Dr. Lanie Parish.

"Pleeease boys? I've got nowhere else to go," Castle was definitely begging. "I hate bugs! Have some sympathy."

Beckett watched as his bottom lip jutted out in a pleading pout. He was looking for a place to stay. She focused on working the coffee machine as she considered her options. She could completely ignore the fact that she'd been eavesdropping, or she could offer to let him stay at her place. With a furrowed brow she mulled over all of the complications which that scenario could create.

Besides the fact that he would undoubtedly pester her in the one place she had refuge from her life as a cop, there were a number of issues that still lay unspoken of between them. She briefly considered how this could be good for her; force her back into a regular sleeping pattern in her own bed. On the other hand, had she not once told Lanie that she wanted 'loud' anyway? He had been a complete gentleman in L.A. The underlying thought of disappointment which accompanied that realisation was pushed to the back of her mind. Really, there was no choice. After all, he had done the same for her after her apartment blew up, leaving her with nowhere and no one.

Gripping a navy NYPD mug in both hands, Kate Beckett entered the bullpen with a confident face and an uncertain stomach. His next words offered her the perfect opportunity to make her proposition in a typical manner that was filled with wit.

"Mother has a place to stay and Ashley has offered the spare room at his parents place."

"Looking for a place to stay, Castle?" All three men turned to face her as she took a sip of her drink. "Alexis is more than welcome to stay with me. I'm sure Ashley would love to be your bunk buddy."

Castle's eyes squinted as his head tipped to one side; calculating. "I can think of other people I'd rather bunk with, detective."

It suddenly struck her that besides the fact that she didn't know exactly why he needed a place to stay; she also didn't have a spare bed in her new apartment. "I hope you don't mind the luxury…leather …" Her words were slow and deliberate. His face was comical, jaw slackening in expectation. "_couch_ I have to offer."

She grinned in defeat but watched his features quickly switch from amused to serious. With a quick glance towards their audience he dipped his head momentarily before meeting her eyes again. All humour and innuendo were now gone, replaced by concern and sincerity.

"Kate, I…" The writer searched for words but, as usual, they failed him around the detective. "I wouldn't want to…you know, after…Josh…injured…fight…" He gave up on the epileptic attempt at speech with a shake of his head.

Ryan and Esposito took the change in demeanour as a good time to find other things to busy themselves with. Other things on the furthest side of the room, away from the serious conversations of mum and dad that would inevitably end in awkwardness if they didn't leave now.

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><p><em>Author's notes: <em>_First of all, no offence to anyone named Oliver. It was the first name that popped into my head... and I didn't want to just have some boring kid so I tried to give him a bit of character. Hopefully it works._

_Secondly, I draw__. I did a Beckett inspired sketch the other day (and have done two other Castle related ones before…) and it's on my tumblr if anyone's interested. I'm far from pro but I just like drawing people… amytherapy._


	6. Chapter 6

_Author's Notes: __Sincerest apologies for the time between updates, I've had a busy week (and yet feel like I've done nothing). I hope you guys like this chapter. Let me know what you think of the way that I write their banter…I'm not sure if I'm doing it justice? Without further ado, chapter six!_

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><p>Richard Castle had a plan. Admittedly, it was not the offspring of his genius alone. The day he began finding tiny insects that made his skin itch in every nook and cranny of the loft was the day it began to form. Bugs had never been an acquaintance of his, but he thanked them for drawing him into the guest room which was rarely visited. Armed with bug spray and his fencing mask, for protection, the writer entered the room.<p>

Memories of her time as its occupant seeped from every wall and for a moment he thought he caught the faintest trace of her cherry scent. As quickly as it had come her scent was engulfed by the pungent insect spray but the memories still lingered. A mix of them and the compulsive itching that he experienced even at the thought of bugs had Rick lying wide awake at an ungodly hour.

If it were not for this, he never would have downloaded the iPhone app which he had sworn was gone forever. Just that morning Castle had found the detective on the precinct couch. With the knowledge that it had been a regular occurrence lately, he had made her promise that she would go home and get some sleep.

Once the download completed he typed her number in out of sheer curiosity. A pang of guilt hit him as the screen loaded and he remembered her and Alexis' reactions at him doing this to his daughter. The guilt almost made him hit 'cancel' but before he could slide a finger to the button a map had materialised on the screen.

All guilt washed away as a red dot indicating Kate Beckett's location sat like a dead weight on top of the 12th precinct. He had lied, but so had she.

He stood in front of her now trying to make excuses for why he could not accept her offer. Whilst his concerns were real, they were also a part of the plan. She had walked straight into this schemed scenario and he made a mental note to thank his mother for the acting ability which was surely all that kept the triumphant grin from his face. Ryan and Esposito would be rewarded for their keen participation in the plotting with unlimited free drinks at the Old Haunt. Castle had ignored the fact they had openly admitted that the only reason they were so eager was because they thought it would raise their chances of winning in the bet about himself and Beckett.

The two male detectives moved away without a word and he was left to seal the deal on his own. In an unspoken understanding, writer and detective began the short walk across the bullpen to her desk. He had noticed in the past that she used walking as a deterrent. Often he would glance sideways to find her head tilted forward in a way that cast a shield of chocolate waves across her face. The coffee mug was still gripped between both hands close to her torso. Castle wondered when she had acquired the ambidextrous habit.

As expected, she was the first to break the silence. "I told you that wasn't your fault." There was a clink as she placed the mug on the table and both took their seats. "Really, it's no trouble. Consider it returning a favour."

Castle pursed his lips and studied her face, making a show of considering the offer. With a stern look from the detective as she hooked her left knee over her right and lent back in the chair to fold her arms, he decided what had always been. He nodded in affirmation and gave a smile that made her forget that it was freezing outside.

The awkward air that the other two had abandoned was gone. "So what's wrong with your place, anyway?" With both hands on the desk she rolled her chair in towards the table and picked up a pen.

"The whole building has been taken over by creepy crawlies." He dramatically shivered and watched her tongue jab into her cheek in an attempt to hide the smile he had been aiming for with the action. "Pest guys are coming in tomorrow and they say we won't be allowed back in the building for a couple of days. I hope that's ok?"

"Fine. Where is Martha staying?" She wanted to ask why he couldn't just stay in a hotel but didn't want him to think she regretted the offer she had just made.

His reply was perhaps a little too quick. "With a friend." He shrugged in a way which he hoped conveyed a 'who knows with that woman' message in an attempt to cover up the lie which the speed of his response had almost outed. Then he answered her unasked question. "I'd stay in a hotel but all the good ones are booked out with all the tourists coming to see the Big Apple in the hopes of snow."

Beckett hadn't seemed to notice his lie as she lent an elbow on the desk and chewed on the end of her pen in a way that had him staring at her mouth. "And you're really letting Alexis stay at Ashley's house?"

Castle's smirk told her that he knew where she was going with this and that he had already considered it. "Ashley's _parents_ house. In the guest room. On the other side of the house to his bedroom."

She couldn't help but smile sweetly at his innocence that was always associated with his daughter. "Uh huh... What ever you say, Castle."

._._._._._._._.

Under the agreement that Castle would go home to pack a bag and then meet her at her place, Kate Beckett entered her apartment alone. She shrugged out of her coat and hung it on a hook, chucked her keys onto the head of the huge statue that guarded her door and turned to observe the room. She had not been home much over the past couple of weeks. When she had it was often just for a change of clothes or to have a quick meal before heading back to the precinct; it showed.

As she walked around the apartment she began to panic as a quick glance at her father's watch sitting securely on her wrist showed that he would be there in just over thirty minutes. There were dirty dishes in the sink and an overflow of clothes hanging out of her laundry basket from the continuous days of not being home long enough to clean. She straightened the cushions on her couch and grabbed the pile of unopened mail that had been growing on the coffee table before tossing them out of sight into a draw.

Thirty minutes seemed like a millisecond when there was suddenly a knock at the door indicating he had arrived. Kate had been frantically rushing around in an attempt to tidy her house. She knew he probably wouldn't care if it was a mess and that he'd been over unexpectedly before when things were askew, but this was different. The mess was physical evidence of her lack of coping; her lack of enthusiasm to some aspects of life.

"Hold on!" She called as she threw a few more items into their rightful places.

"Come on Beckett, open the door! If you're naked, don't worry, I've seen it all before." Castle chuckled and was greeted, after a moment of hearing muffled banging from within the apartment, by a flustered looking detective.

She swung the door open wide before leaning up against it. He couldn't help but notice that although her hair was in a ponytail, stray strands stuck out at every angle which he longed to tuck behind her ear and she had wet patches on her shirt that showed the remnants of bubbles.

"Wet and soapy? You shouldn't have!" He smirked and waited for the comeback which was sure to occur.

She looked down at herself and attempted to wipe off some of the bubbles from her frantic rush of washing the dishes. "I didn't. What are you, a teenage girl? I thought you were only staying for a few days, not a few weeks."

With a nod towards his huge pile of bags sitting in the hallway she pushed herself off of the door and extended a hand to help him get them inside.

"I didn't know what we would be doing so I packed extra outfits."

Beckett dropped his bags gracelessly onto the floorboards of her threshold and turned to look at him as he shut the door behind himself. He was serious. "_Doing_? We won't be _doing_ anything." She folded her arms across her chest and stood with one hip cocked to the side. A staring match had begun.

Castle simply stood there and gave her his best Cheshire cat impersonation that told her he knew otherwise. After a moment she finally gave in to the staring match and glanced around the room in an awkward manner. With that, they both appeared to realise that the last time he was here was the day that Josh and he had fought.

Placing the remaining bags on the floor, he removed his own coat and placed it on a hook beside hers. When he turned back to face her she had her bottom lip sucked in between her teeth and was turning on her shoeless heel towards the kitchen.

"Have you eaten?" She refused to acknowledge the elephant in the room just yet.

"No, Alexis wouldn't let me eat any of our food. She says it could have been contaminated by the bugs." He pouted just as his stomach grumbled.

In response to both his spoken and involuntary answer, Kate moved to open her pantry to find something that they could eat. She sensed him approach as she swung both doors of the tall cupboard open and, still holding onto the handles, leaned back to survey their options. She was surprised to find him a little closer than she had expected but did not move away from the smooth fabric of his shirt as it brushed against her arm. His breath was warm against her neck as he looked into the cupboard over her shoulder, making her momentarily forget what she was looking for.

"Are you expecting an apocalypse?"

The amusement in his voice brought her out of her haze as she realised what he meant. All that her shelves contained was a variety of canned foods and Easy Mac. She hadn't bothered buying anything that would date quickly on the few shopping trips she had made. She wasn't home often enough and when she was she could rarely be bothered cooking anything substantial for just herself.

"Order in?"

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><p><em>Author's notes: <em>_I hope this chapter cleared up some of the stuff that you guys might have been wondering about (e.g. why couldn't he stay in a hotel) but don't worry, it's alllll part of the plan ;). I know Alexis and Ashley should probably be at college or something in this time period but I had some ideas which wouldn't allow for that…_

_Once again, thank you all so much for the reviews! The more I get the faster I seem to write ;). To date 85 people have this story on their alerts while 27 have added it to their favourites and as this is basically my first fic I am pretty happy with those stats, so thank you!_


	7. Chapter 7

_Author's Notes: __Hello new readers! Thank you everyone for your kind reviews. =)_

_I did a graveyard shift at work last night__ (seeing that a customer's surname is Beckett at 3am when you're high on lack of sleep is not good…) so hopefully this makes sense even though I'm operating on only a few hours of sleep._

_Phoenix073109, it's not a pool filled with milk but I hope you like it anyway ;)_

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><p>A murder board had been created on her living room floor around the partners who sat cross legged on cushions across from each other. They'd been this way for hours; going back over all the information they had on Rosemary Gale in an attempt to put the pieces of the puzzle together. The puzzle appeared to have a lot of missing pieces.<p>

Frustrated with the constant empty handedness they found themselves in, Kate tossed the case files onto the pile in front of her. Perhaps it was the pressure of the so far unsuccessful state of the case which she viewed as her chance to prove herself to Harrison or maybe it was being back in her apartment, but she had no idea where to look next. In the hopes that he might have one of his crazy theories, Beckett looked towards Castle as she leaned back on both hands to stretch her tired back.

He held one of the long ago discarded takeout containers that they hadn't cleared from their makeshift dinner table; the floor. With his head right back he dangled a cold noodle into his mouth and when he paused to slurp it in she saw the cogs begin to turn. What he said next was not what she had expected.

"They say you are what you eat. So, am I a noodle or Chinese?" He had obviously had enough of combing for leads as well.

Kate smiled at his thought process. "I think you've worn your noodle out."

As soon as the words left her mouth she regretted it. His eyebrows rose and she watched as his lip twitched into a crooked smile.

"Your brain, Castle." She rolled her eyes and reached back to pull a cushion from the couch to throw at his head.

Ignoring his protests, she rose to her feet and disappeared down the hall without a word. For a moment he sat staring after her. Had she gone to bed? Was he really sleeping on the couch? There were no blankets. Should he follow her? He didn't want to intrude, especially when he wasn't sure of exactly where they stood with each other. He knew she liked her space. She was her own best friend; an injured soul who didn't let people in easily.

A few minutes later she emerged and the first thing he noticed was that she'd changed out of her work clothes. From his place on the floor, he took her in toe-to-head. She wore purple bed socks that reached up her legs to join with a pair of black tights that were only visible for a short span of her long legs before being engulfed by a hugely oversized grey NYPD hoodie.

She watched as his eyes lit up. "That is so cool! Where can I get one?" How had he never seen her wear that before? More importantly, as an unofficial member of the 12th, why didn't he own one?

"I don't think they come in your size, Robin Hood." Beckett smirked as she threw the pile of blankets she'd been carrying onto the couch with a pillow. "I brought you a few extra blankets. It gets pretty cold in here."

With a nod, he rose from the floor to join her by the couch. "Thanks."

They stood awkwardly for a second before she turned to offer him a small smile.

"Goodnight, Castle." She moved towards her bedroom so that he could get some sleep, even if she was almost certain that she wouldn't.

"Until tomorrow." His soft response followed her down the hallway and into the empty bedroom before she shut the door.

._._._._._._.

Alarm clocks were not much use if you awoke before them. Turning the alarm off Kate rolled from the strangling sheets. As expected, sleep had not come easily and when it did the Sand Man had quickly robbed her of the daily requirement. If possible, she felt worse than when she usually awoke on the precinct couch. It felt like sand gritted underneath her eyelids every time she blinked and so she stumbled towards the kitchen with her eyes only open wide enough to be able to see the path her feet followed.

Despite the fact that he'd featured in a number of her restless thoughts throughout the night, Kate's drowsy mind did not register the fact that she had a house guest. She opened the fridge and grabbed for the 2 litre bottle of milk she always had on the top shelf. Even if there was no other food in her apartment, Kate Beckett always had milk. She couldn't go a day without coffee.

Being organised and controlling were characteristics of being a detective. In the comfort of her own home she allowed herself to slip from the role on occasion. This slip occurred every morning without fail. It had become habit; a ritual. The first thing she did after getting out of bed would be to pad into the kitchen, flick the switch on the kettle and open the fridge to retrieve the milk while she waited for the water to boil. Every morning she would grow impatient of waiting and simply take a long guzzle of the milk straight from the bottle.

The only difference between this morning and all of the others was that her ritual was interrupted by Richard Castle clearing his throat from her couch which sat against the far wall of the open space. "I never took you for a straight-from-the-bottle gal. It's bizarrely attractive."

Busted. She ripped the bottle away from her lips without bothering to completely tip it back up right first, resulting in a drip of liquid rolling down her chin as she attempted to slam the lid back on. After remembering that the lid screwed on instead of pushed she swiped at her chin with the back of a slender hand.

Rick approached the deer in headlights with a tired grin as he wrapped the blanket he had slept with around his shoulders. Pale light had begun to stream through the stained glass window behind her and he marvelled at the fact that the sun appeared to rise with her. He had witnessed numerous times that it did not set with her however, as she was often awake long after it had dipped below the cityscape. Thoughts similar to this were what had him in her apartment in the first place.

A response did not emerge from her mouth as it sat slightly agape below wide eyes that watched him approach. Before he could completely cover his shoulders with the blanket she could not help but notice the snug fit of the t-shirt he had slept in. He came to a stop mere inches from her. The world did not slow like it would in one of his novels but the couple itself did. Both became acutely aware of the other and all that measured the time they stood staring into each other was the ticking of the wall clock which ate at the silence in the room.

A hesitant hand wound out of the blanket that he had been clutching in both fists at his chest. Never had she been more aware of the five inches that separated them when shoeless. She'd googled it the first time she'd found herself in the situation. She'd had to know. It had amazed her that the removal of her heels could change the dynamics of a scene which would normally have her rebutting his challenge either physically or verbally. She felt vulnerable. He would never know that though, of course.

The accused hand lingered in the heavy air that had become heated with the mingling of their breaths. Slowly, he reached towards her until finally his thumb found her top lip. He dragged it the full length of the sculpted curve excruciatingly slowly and deliberately. His hands were rougher than she had once expected. Callused fingertips from typing his novels, she decided. The friction was not uninvited though. It reminded her of the chiselled hands of workman or an artist.

For a moment he thought she had closed her eyes at his touch but then he caught the slightest fluttering movement of her lids as her eyes cast so low to watch his hand that they appeared shut. Alarm bells were screaming in his head but, like her only moments before, he shut them off. This was certainly not good house guest behaviour. Especially not when the host was Beckett; tough as nails cop that had been hurt too many times.

"You missed a spot." The words fell much quieter and thicker than he had intended.

Rick rubbed the milk residue from her lip into oblivion between his thumb and forefinger. Her heavy lids rose until she found his eyes. The morning light made them look bluer than she had ever seen them and she found herself committing the patterns of his iris to memory. His hand slid from her chin to tangle in the waves of chocolate at the side of her neck.

Neither had ever been so keenly aware of their surroundings whilst so unaware of what they were doing. Words were silently passed between the two but not a fraction of the conversation they had both been avoiding was addressed. Torn between wanting to succumb to the flickering action of his baby blues as they passed between her eyes and lips, and becoming increasingly aware of how disastrous this could be; Kate froze.

With the ringing of her phone on the kitchen bench, the moment was gone. Without breaking eye contact or stepping away she fumbled for the phone. "Beckett."

His hand slid from its position on her neck and felt the deep intake of breath at the point of her clavicle before completely dropping to his side. The touch of his eyes on hers remained until she was forced to look away in search of a pen. She spoke to the caller but he did not take in the conversation. Instead he watched aimlessly as she pulled an unopened envelope from a draw and jotted down an address in the scrawl he had come accustomed to.

The snap of her shutting the phone brought him out of his stupor and he looked to her face just in time to see the detective mask sliding back into place. "We've got a lead."

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><p><em>Author's notes: <em>_Cheese. Fest. I hope that didn't suck too badly though. _

_Please ignore the fact that they ate Chinese food, li__ke, the day before. I am aware, but wanted to use his line…_

_I've read a lot of fics that have__ them 'move in together', but I hope to not make it overly cliché. If the stuff in my head transfers onto paper ok I think you should enjoy it. Also, I didn't mean to make Beckett sound like a damsel in distress, so I hope you didn't read it that way._


	8. Chapter 8

_Author's Notes: __So, I blame my slow updates on the amount of time I've been spending driving to and sitting in waiting rooms, but that also means more thinking time so it's not totally a bad thing for you guys (I have a bunch of notes saved in my phone…)._

_You guys are rad!__ =D Thank you so much for the reviews, the favourites and the alerts. You all seemed to like the Caskett-y goodness from the last chapter so I'll try to write more of that, although there isn't that much in this particular chapter…but there will be in the next!_

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><p>Kate had never realised how small the hand basin in her bathroom was until that morning. The stand alone structure matched the vintage bathtub that she had salvaged from her last apartment. She had sworn she would never get rid of it in thanks for it saving her from the explosion. Rick had entered without an invite to stand brushing his teeth next to her. She did not argue as he had expected; they were in a rush to get to the precinct.<p>

Only once did he try to annoy her, bumping her hip with his own so that she stepped to the side and out of his view in the mirror. She had been looking down, observing the tiny sink, in an attempt to avoid eye contact after what had just happened in the kitchen. He watched intently as she brushed a piece of hair behind her ear before running her fidgeting free hand along the textured edge of the basin and then into the pocket of her hoodie like a sling.

Not only did he watch her for the beauty which still amazed him, but he performed a health check as well. He knew she hadn't been sleeping; that was why he was here. Shadows he usually only saw traces of were dark under her make-up free eyes and her shoulders slumped towards each other across her chest in an exhausted posture. The hip bump had been a question. _Are you ok?_ In response she nudged him gently back in the ribs with her elbow. _Shut up, Castle._

He grinned through his toothpaste as she leant down to spit in the sink, holding her hair in a bunch at the base of her neck with the wandering free hand. She watched as the water swirled its way down the drain before finishing up and making her way back to the bedroom. Rick moved to the middle of the small mat that they had been fighting for foot space on, in an attempt to escape the cold tiles, before doing the same and following her out. He passed her on his way out of the bathroom as she re-entered with clean clothes to take a quick shower.

As Kate pondered their natural ability to move around each other in the small apartment without a word and without getting in each others' way, he proceeded to make the coffee she had never got to finish. She would need it soon. He knew.

The water was a little too hot as she stepped into the shower but she did not adjust it, hoping that the slight sting of the heat would wake her body up. Castle had not yet been there for a full twenty-four hours but he had already surprised her numerous times. Despite the fact that she had willingly offered him a place to stay with the underlying hope that it would do her some good, chace the loneliness away, she had expected him to push more. He did not hover. He did not treat her like she was broken. He did not insist that they talk about all the things that had happened in the not too distant past. Then again, she thought as she dressed quickly, that was their problem, wasn't it? They never spoke about it.

Castle had all but finished his coffee before she exited the bathroom. Unable to shake the chill he had acquired from the night on her couch, he had gulped the hot liquid to try and warm himself from the inside out. She hadn't been lying when she said it got cold in there.

Having nothing to do while he waited for his turn in the bathroom, and having wanted to do it since he'd first stepped foot in her apartment, the man wandered her living room. Photographs of places he knew she had been hung on walls and sat on shelves. Amongst these were a select few that also featured people. He recognised Jim and Johanna Beckett in a couple, the blonde Maddison he had met in another and a small hand full of people he did not recognise in a group shot that looked to him like it was from many years ago. Younger, less haunted features graced Kate's face as she laughed with the people in the photo.

He would have loved to have met that Kate, before the loss of essentially both parents had changed her forever. As an after thought, he decided that he didn't mind the current version of her so much. Although it sounded terrible even in his head, he was thankful that she had grown into this troubled woman. Had she not, he feared she may have become another drone like his past wives. Her strength might have become dependence. Her dark humour; fear. Her determination; weakness.

The last photo he found surprised him almost as much as the lack of people he had found in her life in the ones before it. He smiled to himself as he looked into a scene which could only be the engagement party of Ryan and Jenny. Memories of the night flooded back to him as he looked into the smiling faces of the happy couple along with Esposito, Lanie, Montgomery, Beckett and himself.

After a moment he placed the frame gingerly back onto its shelf before moving to the bookcase on the opposite wall. It had character. It was a deep red-brown and possibly the chunkiest piece of furniture he had ever seen. Delicate engravings traced the frame-like front and he noted the way books ran vertically across the shelf like they were suppose to before being stacked horizontally on top; full. That explained why half of her books had exploded around the room; the stairs, the kitchen bench, the shelf that the picture of them sat on.

Being more interested in the things he didn't know about, Castle skipped the top shelf filled with his own novels and instead pulled another well worn book down. A Tim Sale Batman graphic novel. No way. Kate Beckett did not own a Batman comic.

He would have squealed in delight about the fact that he owned the very same one except he heard her open the bathroom door behind him.

"Is that a James Patterson you have there? The guy's a literary genius."

He could hear her smile in the way she said it. Choosing to file the newly found discovery away for a rainy day, Rick slipped the graphic novel back into place without a word. He turned to face her with a look of mock disbelief that quickly turned into a smug smirk.

"That's not what your top shelf says."

._._._._._._.

Beckett slammed her palms on the table. A shock tactic for the benefit of both the suspect in front of her and the Captain she knew was on the other side of the one way mirror behind her.

The lead from that morning had been the discovery of a witness in the video that Ollie had given them. A silhouette had been spotted in an upstairs apartment window that looked down upon the alley. After spending the morning tracking down the apartment number and interviewing the witness who had easily admitted to seeing the murder, they now had a sketch of the suspect. It was almost a mirror image of the man who sat opposite the detective. He was a well known street rat so bringing him in had been easy.

A little too easy, Beckett had thought. She knew she should be grateful for such an open and close case but it didn't give her much to impress the Captain with. Kate mentally slapped herself for feeling like she had to impress in the first place. That's not why she was a cop. That had never been why she was a cop.

Castle had been making mysterious phone calls all day. Another one had been in the process when they brought the suspect in so he had not gone into the interrogation room with her like he usually would have. He stood behind the glass in the dim viewing room, shoulder to shoulder with Harrison. He always stood a little straighter, a little broader, when he was in her presence. A defence mechanism.

As the interrogation took place in front of them, he spoke with passion and without taking his eyes away from the fire that had inspired Nikki Heat.

"She's a wonderful detective, you know?" Castle didn't pause long enough for Harrison to respond. "She never gives up. She fights for the truth. No one tells Beckett that enough is enough. That can be infuriating at times, I know. She can be foolish and she never knows when to stop. She got shot for it." His voice cracked slightly and he paused for a breath before continuing in a much quieter voice. "She's not as tough as she looks. Not always. Just give her a chance." He was rambling as he finished presenting his case with a glance towards Harrison.

Regardless of her feelings towards the tag along which cluttered her precinct and distracted her officers, Captain Harrison did indeed know. She'd read Kate Beckett's file. She really was brilliant. "I never said she wasn't."

The answer to his rhetorical question was all she gave before exiting the viewing room with Castle following a shock induced distance behind. They met Beckett in the hallway as she closed the interrogation room door behind her with a satisfied look. Case closed. The guy had confessed. Only after a heavy hand from the detective though, of course.

An intricate box step later, Castle and Beckett stood facing the Captain. Even after his speech and her unexpected response, Castle did not anticipate what she said next.

"Good job, detective." It was simple, unemotional and then she had disappeared back into her office.

The writer caught an involuntary smile pulling at the corners of Beckett's mouth and he watched her fight it as she clamped her top lip beneath the bottom one. He loved her smile. He loved her laugh. He loved her. The fear of nearly losing her had forced the words out of him but she had never heard them and he had not had the guts to say it again since. She couldn't possibly love him back.

Two uniforms entered the interrogation room behind them as he followed her the short distance to her desk. Ryan and Esposito being nearby was not a part of his original plan but it certainly worked to his advantage.

"Drinks at The Old Haunt tonight!" Castle turned his attention from the boys to his partner beside him who looked up from placing the folder she had been carrying on the desk. "In celebration of closing Beckett's first case back in the field."

The male detectives agreed eagerly but he did not acknowledge them. Kate was looking at him; her expression a cross between thankful and concerned. Thankful that he knew how important solving this case had been to her. Concerned by the fact that he wanted to go out that night when she already felt like the walking dead.

Beckett nodded anyway. She couldn't skip out on her own celebration drinks. She couldn't make up an excuse which would find her at home, alone in the bath with a good book. He would be there, at her apartment. She couldn't hide from him. Not physically and, although she'd once told him he didn't know her as well as he thought he did, she knew she couldn't hide emotionally either. Not anymore. He'd already gotten through the barriers.

The next stage of his plan had begun.

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><p><em>Author's notes: <em>_How do you guys like the way that I don't really stick to just one POV? I've been doing it in the hopes that…well…it gives you an idea of what they're both thinking. But if it seems a bit scattered or what ever I can stick to one POV?_

_I feel like I should explain something__ in case you didn't pick up on it. I know it's highly likely that Castle would freak the hell out when she was shot, and he did at first. But over the past three months and the fight with Josh that pulled them apart a bit, he has figured out how to do it without being obvious about it. So, she thinks he's backed off but he hasn't really…_

_The Batman thing isn't because of Stana's new role. It's because of the Batman reference Beckett made in season 1._

_Banterer, thank you so much even though you busted me__ (I was major OMGing when I saw you'd review. Because you're awesome)! I was hoping that no one would notice the weather was wrong. Besides the fact that July here (Australia) is freezing so I had more winter-related inspiration, there kind of is a reason for that…all in due time =)._


	9. Chapter 9

_Author's notes: __The longest chapter to date in thanks for your patience with my slow updates and for your amazing support! Thank you also for the feedback regarding the POV thing. Greatly appreciated._

_Before you read this you should know that, as odd as it is for a 19 year old, I don't drink alcohol (or coffee…or tea…or __milk…) so I hope my lack of knowledge on the subject does not detract from this chapter._

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><p>It had been decided that the writer and detective would go to the Old Haunt a little earlier than the others. A mutual agreement had been made that they would eat dinner there since Beckett's kitchen still had little to offer. A less than mutual agreement had also been made. They couldn't go straight there from work because Castle had to change clothes. He argued that it was necessary because he had bought a large portion of his wardrobe for occasions just like this. Kate had been too tired to argue.<p>

They had caught a cab back across the shadowed city. When she'd tried to take her car he had told her that there was no point in celebratory drinks if you couldn't drink anyway. She only agreed after he had settled on a cab instead of a limo or something else extravagant.

She hadn't remembered The Old Haunt having so much door security but the thought slipped from her mind when his hand came to rest on the small of her back as they entered the building. The leather jacket she wore only came to her waist so it alternated between covering and not covering his hand as it shifted with her stride. His palm was warm against the thin fabric of her shirt. It made her miss the way they use to be with each other. Before her already damaged world split completely in two.

His hand had fallen to the small of her back of its own accord; a habit. His step faltered slightly as he considered the action. This would have been fine in the past, but now, he wasn't so sure. If it were not for her slowing steps that matched his own with the contact, or the fact that it would have become an awkwardly light smack if he instantly removed the hand, he would have pulled away. She didn't seem to mind.

The pair slid into a booth as Rick relished in the fact that Kate had not noticed, or at least had not commented on, the security at the door. When she had agreed to go there he had made a few calls to up the security. In the phony safety of daylight or when she was at work there was not a lot he could do. The detail they'd had on her for the past few months followed her everywhere. He knew she'd spotted them a few times but was yet to acknowledge it. He knew she wouldn't like it the moment he had demanded the department assign the officers. She would consider it a waste of resources; babysitting. He was infuriated when Harrison had suggested that it had been long enough, no one was after her anymore. The detail had continued. This was his place; he wouldn't allow anyone but themselves in if it meant she would be safe. The extra security was really a moderate course of action. He could _do_ something here. He didn't feel completely useless.

Castle waved over one of the waiters by the bar. He'd hired the kid as a favour to Alexis. She met him at a homeless shelter that she had volunteered at one summer. His daughter had insisted that he was the hardest working young man that her father had ever seen. It had worried him at first that his little girl was mingling with homeless twenty-something's, but he had agreed anyway and the guy had not proven her wrong.

"Evening, Mr Castle. Miss Beckett."

The older man smiled at his formality. "Hey, Jake."

"What can I get for you tonight?" Jake flipped open a small notepad and pulled a pencil from the front pocket of his pristine apron.

"Two 'Nikki-Heat-Havocs', thank you."

Castle refrained from looking at the detective in front of him as the waiter finished writing down their order with a nod before moving away. He had been dying to bring her here since he had renamed their regular meal. Overflowing with the excitement to see her reaction, he finally turned to look at her. Disappointment would have been evident on his face if she had been looking at him.

Beckett had her head down, rifling through her purse, brow furrowed. She was not sure whether to be flattered or annoyed that he had named a meal at The Old Haunt after her. Technically, it wasn't after her. It was after Nikki Heat. She knew that. But after all, she was the inspiration for Nikki Heat anyway. It didn't worry her that he had ordered for the both of them. He often did it and he always knew what she wanted somehow. Deciding to ignore it altogether, she slid some cash across the table at him.

He laughed.

She raised an eyebrow and pushed it a little father toward him.

"You're not paying."

"Castle."

"No, Beckett." He shrugged, indifferent. "The boys get free drinks here anyway."

She removed her hand, letting the money sit in limbo on the textured grain of the wooden table top. He did not move to take it, but slid it a little back towards her. They eyed each other off challengingly before her brow scrunched once more.

"Why do the boys get free drinks?"

Busted. "Uh…" Castle stuttered around the slowly forming excuse to cover his plan. "They…um…so do you and Lanie! Whenever you want." He silently commended himself on the save before realising how much that slip could cost him. Both women could handle their liquor. Damn.

A small smile flashed across her features as she nodded in thanks. Attempting to avoid any more discussion on the topic, the writer turned to look out across the room. He hadn't changed the place a lot since he'd bought it. Part of the reason he had taken up ownership had been to save the rustic air the place had always had. As his eyes cast across the figures hunched at the bar and to the silhouettes of dancing couples, he wondered what their stories were. That was another reason he had bought the place; the stories. So many stories.

The building itself held its own mysterious tales of many years listening in on the crowd. Shiny leather seats accustom to regulars and an ear to those that simply pass through. Lamps with old shades that cast a moody blanket around the bar. Mismatched picture frames covering every inch of wall where the greats sat and watched over the visiting souls. Yes. He loved this place.

His gaze fell back on her after they saw the uniforms in a nearby booth, completing his scan of the room. He watched as she steadied a coin between both thumbs before spinning it across the table. She watched it intently with an expression that was on the verge of being completely blank and completely concerned. If that was even possible.

The coin looked like a solid ball as it spun so quickly that it was no longer a flat object. Its shiny surface caught a stray beam of the dim light from overhead and it glinted before hitting a nook in the table top which sent it in a wide arc. Rick caught it just in time as it jumped from the table's edge, overcome with the sadness of being separated from its friends in her purse.

Castle held it out to her and she took it, their hands joint in a light touch for longer than necessary. The spinning resumed but she was careful to keep the coin contained so that it would not reach the edge again.

"What did you say to Harrison?" She didn't look at him but he noticed that her eyes were no longer focusing on the coin that she stared at.

"What do you mean?"

Her eyes flicked up to meet his before falling back to the table. "You know what I mean. She wouldn't have said 'good job' unless you said something to her. The case was standard; nothing extraordinary about it. So what did you say?"

Her voice was low and level but her expression made him feel as though he could be in trouble. The truth was always the best response when she was like this.

"I just told her to give you a chance."

Giving up on the coin, she covered it with her palm so that it fell with a soft thud to the table. It wouldn't have been audible at all over the bustle in the bar except for the fact that the two occupants of this booth had fallen completely silent.

She looked at him and found nothing but devotion on the face that she had been about to scorn for interfering. Really, she knew she shouldn't have expected anything less. After all he had defended her many times before. He'd stood by her.

A look he recognised as acceptance with a touch of thanks pulled across her features and he knew it was in place of the words she could not say. He matched her with a look that spoke more words than even his vocabulary was capable of.

He didn't know how much time passed as they held a conversation which would have looked like a staring match to anyone watching. Jake reappeared without either of them noticing and had placed their meals in front of them. The pair sat aimlessly picking at their chicken parmigiana with its tomato sauce arranged in the shape of a dead body, like they drew on the pavement at murder scenes. That explained the new name. Finally, the writer spoke.

"I won't be at the precinct tomorrow." After the conversation they'd just had, his words were tainted with apology. He wouldn't be there with her. For her.

"Alexis finally convinced you to stop putting your life in danger?" Kate's words were accompanied by a sad chuckle which told him that she knew she was wrong, even if she hoped she wasn't.

Castle couldn't see the amusement. They'd fought about this so many times lately. Both his daughter and mother begged him to stop following the detective. She agreed with them. He was not a cop. He was not one of the heroes from his novels. He could get hurt. They needed him.

What they didn't understand was that he couldn't stop. His life would go back to being mediocre if he stopped playing cops and robbers now; if he left her. He would take the risk.

"We're going to a sci-fi convention. It's tradition, we've gone every year since Alexis was nine."

She smiled at his inner child. "Are you guys dressing up?"

"Ah, dear detective, that is for me to know and for you to never find out!"

The cheeky grin she loved to wipe off his face appeared but before she could act upon that desire a shadow fell across their nearly finished meals.

"Are you party people ready for a night of celebration?" Ryan was all teeth as he grinned down at them.

"Bro, 'party people'? Really?"

"_You_ say 'party people'!"

Esposito glanced towards the medical examiner beside him. "I do not."

"I've heard you, man."

"I have _never_ said 'party people'!"

Lanie slid into the booth next to her friend with a disbelieving nod towards the two arguing men. "What are we drinking?"

"Anything you want. We get free drinks, right Castle?" Beckett looked at him pointedly.

He nodded, his lips pulled into a pained line. "Mmhm."

Sometime later the group of five stood around one of the large pool tables in the back of the bar. They'd already played a few games; the winners would verse each other. Of course, Beckett and Castle had won each round they played and now stood glaring at each other across the wide span of green velvet. Jake had made multiple trips to the group already so the tension that had hung over dinner was long gone.

Beckett spun the long length of the cue between her palms as she analysed the table in search of her next shot. She spotted the perfect play.

"You're going down, Writer Boy."

She laughed like the devil and it made his blood run cold and hot all at once. He would have sworn that more of the buttons on her shirt had been closed before. A lump formed in his throat as she bent one knee and leaned low over the table at the hips. The cue rested on her knuckles and she pursed her lips in concentration. They were slightly swollen from the alcohol. Yep, she definitely had more buttons before. That woman would be the death of him.

With a sharp jab to the white sphere, a ball hit the opposite side of the table right in front of his crotch. The man winced and inhaled a sharp breath as he watched the ball rebound and smack another right into the abyss she had been aiming for. Castle took a long sip from his glass and he watched as the foam from his beer clung to the almost empty edges. He never would have let this turn into a drinking game if he knew she would make so many shots.

She ignored the sight of Ryan and Esposito each slipping Lanie a $10 note. It was hardly fair of her friend to bet against them when she knew how good Kate was at pool. With a glance at her opponent, the woman hoped that the ME would start betting the other way. She took her next shot and missed. Deliberately.

"Damn." Kate faked disappointment. Letting him win would be acceptable if it meant she didn't have to clean up the mess later. She'd done it far too many times with her father in the past. She didn't want to taint her image of Castle with that experience. He looked a little clammy and she knew he'd be too proud to surrender.

"Uh huh! Not so great now are you?" He leered, smug.

Lanie's exasperated cry served as a distraction for the almost grinning detective. "Oh, man! Come on girl, I bet money on that shot!"

"Sorry." Kate shrugged apologetically at her friend before turning back to Rick. Rick Castle, the man whose midnight blue shirt kept stretching tight across his biceps with each calculated play. The same shirt that made his eyes appear even bluer than usual when she tried to ignore his heated look as she leaned purposefully low over the table. She hoped that her audience would mistake the colour in her cheeks as an effect of the alcohol and not the effect he was having on her. "Your turn."

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><p><em>Author's Notes: Hit the review button down there and let me know what you want to see. More dialogue? Less dialogue? More cheese? Less cheese? More drama? More luuurve? More humour?<em>

_In relation to the picture of younger Beckett that was mentioned in the last chapter, I found a young actress who I swear looks like a mini Stana Katic! Kind of, anyway…it's a bit hard for a teeny bopper to __parallel such a being. PM me and I'll send you a link to a post about it on my tumblr…or google Alexandra Coppinger. Tell me someone else can see the similarities?_


	10. Chapter 10

_Author's notes:__ Pretty sure you guys are radtastic! Your feedback means everything and I'm glad that some of you like my descriptions – I was a bit worried that I was boring you with them. As requested, more touching lol and once we get past this night, more humour, cheese and luuurve. This has been finished for at least 24 hours but I hadn't posted it because I didn't feel like it was finished. Having said that, it's the length of my usual chapters so I figured you guys wouldn't mind getting it kind of early? =)_

_Bon Iver, City & Colour and Seeker Lover Keeper were playing quite a lot as I wrote this.__ If you haven't heard their stuff, have a listen. It might help you understand how I picture some scenes…slow, calculated, moody, offbeat…_

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><p>Castle had suggested The Old Haunt in order to complete phase one of his plan. Phase two if you included him actually getting Beckett to invite him to stay. When Alexis was little he would take her for long walks in the park or have rigorous laser tag wars in an attempt to make her sleepy enough that she would be begging for sleep by bedtime. He thought this tactic might work on the detective. Except, it had to be less conspicuous.<p>

The outfit change which had them travelling unnecessarily around the city had been a part of it and when they'd eventually parted ways from the three amigos at the bar, he suggested that they walk. Admittedly, walking probably wasn't the best idea when there was a potential hit man after her but the tipsy state both were in threw caution to the wind. After all, they still had the uniforms following their every move. There had been no sign of anyone coming after her since the funeral. It made Rick feel as though they were in the eye of the storm; a little too quiet with nothing but disaster ahead.

"Come _on_; let's just walk a few blocks! It's such a nice night." She had let him win their game of pool, but he'd still had more to drink because of the long losing streak. His cheeks were flushed and he kept grinning madly so that his eyes squinted.

"Are you crazy? It's freezing out here!" Of course she argued, but her feet kept pace with his down the footpath. It really was a nice night.

He stopped abruptly and she stood watching him, shifting from foot to foot in an attempt to get warm. The sleeves on her leather jacket didn't quite reach her finger tips but she tried to cover her hands with them anyway. A hot breath escaped Kate's lips and fogged her vision of the street before quickly evaporating into the crisp air. Lamp posts stood frozen into place above the reflective surface of the pavement below and she wondered how such a beautiful city could be filled with so much crime.

Then Castle was directly in front of her in only his button down and jeans. She could feel the cacoon of his warmth as he brought his jacket around to cover her shoulders. It was all around her, radiating off the man himself at her front and from his jacket behind. His body heat clung to the fabric. His scent, strong with cologne and The Old Haunt, broke through the frozen seal of her senses. She inhaled it, intoxicated by the warmth and strength of him. The usual objection which would meet such chivalry did not come. If he wanted to walk, she'd let him be the one to freeze.

Rick pulled his jacket closed at the front of her. Her hands subconsciously came up to meet his so that she could take the jacket from him. He did not move. She smelled of cherries and spirits, and he was transfixed by the small clouds that her breath was making in the unbearably short gap between them. Without taking his eyes off her face he finally let go of the jacket to reach up and pull her hair free from where it had been trapped inside the garment. The baby hairs on the back of her neck brushed his fingers and he considered pushing his hands further into the warmth of her locks. Deciding against it, he spread her hair gently out across her back.

The feel of his hands in her hair made Kate warm from the inside out. She thought of giving him back his jacket but didn't want to part from the heat and smell of him that surrounded her when she wore it. Before she knew it he was pulling away. All she could do was silently follow as he continued down the street, dazed by the events of the night.

A short while later their silent stroll had come to an end when his lips began to turn a light shade of blue from the cold. She reluctantly gave Castle his jacket back before waving down a cab. She pushed him inside and closed the door behind herself as he told the driver her address. In her tipsy state, Beckett wondered when he had learnt it. After all, she had had two addresses in the time she'd known him. She wondered if he knew her phone number by heart too. The day she had realised that she had committed his to memory, she had blamed it on her detective qualities; attention to detail.

He had fallen onto the middle of the backseat when she'd pushed him inside and he made no attempt to move over. Their thighs brushed as he hunched over, rubbing his palms together and breathing into his joint hands. The cabbie had the heater cranked and they bathed in the bliss of it against their almost numb skin. Neither said a word until they reached her apartment where she insisted on paying. It was only fair; he had paid for dinner and all of their drinks.

Castle went straight for the flight of stairs before she could even consider taking the lift. Another tactic to tire the detective. He had already started ascending them by the time she had entered the stairwell so she followed, deciding it was too late to object. It was only a short climb anyway.

The metal stairs echoed up around them with the few quick leaps it took her to catch up to him. Her hand landed on his forearm, pleading for him to slow down. She was too tired to walk any faster and her heels kept slipping on the narrow steps with each footstep she took.

Somehow they reached her front door and she fumbled with the keys until he shone his phone over the lock. The lights in the hall did not provide sufficient light at the best of times and their bodies had almost completely blocked it out. With his help, she unlocked the door with ease.

No one moved to flick the light switch by the door. Kate made her way through the darkness with an acute knowledge of the room to turn a lamp on as he shut the front door. The low lighting carried the mood of the night through into the apartment. Bright lights of home always killed the buzz after a night out. She dropped her purse and keys onto the coffee table with a clank and then moved to stand by the window at the top of her stairs to nowhere. She did that sometimes. Staring out at the busy city from her quiet apartment let her think. It was what she did when she didn't know what else to do. Right now it was nearing midnight and Richard Castle was in her living room. She was dead tired and wide awake all at once. She had no idea what to do.

As expected, a patrol car was parked across the street and she fought the urge to wave at the officers in a sarcastic manner. She was still there. She couldn't freaking leave with out them knowing! They probably liked it better when she slept at the precinct. Video surveillance and other officers on night duty would surely make their detailing job easier.

Kate turned away from the window to sit on the stairs where she leant her right elbow on a pile of books, resting her left hand on top. From her slanted position she watched the man on the other side of the room as he bent to turn on the small gas heater by the wall. The tiny flame flickered on in the darkness before sputtering to nothing.

She laughed; a little embarrassed by the misery of the situation. If he were at his loft he would probably have ducted heating, a fireplace and toasted marshmallows to match. "It's been broken since I moved in."

"Kate, it's cold."

"Thanks, Captain Obvious."

"Why haven't you gotten it fixed?"

"I haven't been around much…" She shrugged, uncommitted to saying much more. Who was he to judge her living arrangements?

He accepted her dodge. "I'll have it fixed tomorrow. I know a guy."

Of course he knew a guy. He always knew a guy. A shadow moved over her as he stepped in front of the lamp for a moment. She looked up to find him in the kitchen beside the stairs she sat on. The man extended a hand which she studied as it hung patiently in the space between them. Blue eyes that shined even in the monochromatic room stared back at her with a purely Rick Castle expression; confident and honest. What was he asking? If she took his hand, what would it mean?

Kate took it anyway. His arm stretched to keep their hands connected as she rose from her seat and moved around the bottom step to stand beside him. Pulling her gently behind him, he moved them back across the room to the couch. Their early walk through the streets of New York had worn off most of the alcohols effect but she still felt a little dizzy as he pulled her down beside him. He reached down to grab her around the ankles and in one swift motion she was laying with her feet in his lap.

The situation scared her. She felt she had little control over it. He was slipping her heels off her feet and as they hit the floor boards with a hollow thud she asked, "What are you doing, Castle?"

"Shhh." His large hands began to knead at the muscles in her feet and he chuckled softly.

The end of the couch caught her head as it fell back with a content sigh. She bit a knuckle of the hand that had come to lie by her face in an attempt to hide her smile. For a moment she could pretend that the past few months hadn't happened, couldn't she? This would have been almost normal in the recovery weeks following the funeral.

Looking down at her face Rick reached for the hand covering her mouth. He wanted to see her smile. It hadn't been around so much lately. The offending hand fell away from her face with his own and he couldn't help but smile back as she looked up at him.

The truth was she knew he knew her better than anybody else. Here, in the shadowed safety of her couch, she wasn't afraid to admit it. She was just afraid of the fact that she did not know him in the same amount of detail. To her, she was the simple one. He was the multi layered onion. Richard Castle; best selling author; bad boy; ex-husband; caring father; loving son; partner.

It was this train of thought that brought her words to the surface. "What are you doing here, Rick?"

His hands continued their work and his eyes fell away from her face to supervise. "The loft has bugs…" Even though he said it with a dumbfounded tone lined with innocence, they both knew that was not what she meant.

She nudged him with her feet. "That's not what I meant." Rising to her elbows, Kate studied his face.

If he was honest, her question had surprised him. He hadn't expected her to question his presence there once she had offered for him to stay. That's not how he would have written it. Pushing from his thoughts the steamy scenario that would have eventuated had he written the situation, he smiled.

"I know." His hands moved from her feet to lightly pinch the thin bone running through her ankle. "You're tired." The writer could not form the right words to explain it. Every way he came up with sounded patronising.

His fingers ran lightly up either side of her ankle and she lowered herself down from her elbows as his hand slipped up under the cuff of her jeans. She considered him. Was he stating the obvious again or was he giving an answer to her question?

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><p><em>Author's Notes: Ok, uh, in reality I'm not much of a conversationalist. Everything is visual. So, although I usually don't write a lot of dialogue, I thought it was necessary at this stage…there's more to come.<em>

_As a reader I sometimes feel that the whole 'fight over who pays' thing gets a bit old. But it just wouldn't go away. So I apologise if you occasionally have that feeling too._


	11. Chapter 11

_Author's notes:__ Ok, I am slightly terrible at updating, especially now that I'm back at uni. This chapter just did NOT want to be written though. Everything I wrote just didn't seem in character… Let me know what you think, whether good or bad! And of course, thank you guys SO MUCH for reading/reviewing._

_Once I did start writing there was so much I wanted to write that this turned out to be the longest chapter yet. =)_

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><p>In a low voice she offered him an explanation for the question he had not asked. "I have nightmares…"<p>

Castle's hand stopped in its path, coming to rest under her calf where he cupped the muscle in his palm. His hand was still inside the cuff of her jeans and his thumb began to absently rub soothing circles on her smooth skin. A silent moment passed with the pair lost in their own thoughts.

Kate wondered why she had just told him about the nightmares. That wasn't how she operated. She didn't depend on people. She didn't spill her emotions. She squashed them down into little boxes where no one but her could ever see them. So why, Kate wondered, did she have a growing desire to wrap her arms around his neck and tell him everything. The realisation that she couldn't caused an ache somewhere deep in her chest. They weren't like that. They were colleagues. And yet, she'd already confided more in him than she ever had in Josh or any other man.

Rick wondered how she got her skin to feel so soft. He wanted to borrow the magnifying glass she swore she didn't own so that he could inspect every facet of it. He wondered if he should tell her the truth. Solid, strong and stable was what he was supposed to be, wasn't it? That was the role he had taken up for the people in his life. No one knew about his nightmares or the pictures he saw every time he closed his eyes. Kate was offering him something and he felt compelled to give something back, as selfish as it made him feel.

"So do I…"

That answer shocked her somewhat. Just when she had been about to jump from the couch and retreat with the regret of opening up, the man rubbing patterns on her skin gave her the truth. She had never heard his voice sound so grave. It was the rasp of a guilty man; a broken man. She was grateful for his honesty. It was what pushed her to continue.

"Everyone…people keep saying it's going to be ok, but how? How is any of this going to be ok? The case is dead. We've got no new information." Kate sighed from her reclined position as she rubbed her face with both hands. "I lie awake at night waiting. Waiting for the gunman we all know is coming…"

He lifted one of her hands away from her face again but this time he did not let it go. Their entwined fingers sat flush against her hip and the back of the couch. Both squeezed the other tight with the emotions they were feeling. If honesty was what she wanted, honesty was what she'd get.

"You know what? Chances are it won't all be ok. But we can't let them win, Kate." Their eyes met as her chin reached her chest so that she could see him. Under the soft illumination of the lamp he caught sight of a hot tear roll down her cheek and his voice became even softer. "We've got the detail on you. They're out there right now watching; keeping you safe."

It was the first time he had openly acknowledged the presence of the officers who watched her like a hawk. If he hadn't been pulling on her hand so that she would sit up, Kate would have chided him about it. She grew annoyed at her weakness as he wiped the stray tear away with his thumb. His hand slid from hers only to settle on her back as he pulled her gently along the couch and onto his lap.

She did not object. This was what she had wanted anyway, right? Her right arm curled between them where her fingers slid into the gap between the buttons of his shirt so that she could clench it in her fist. The other arm pressed against his chest as she gripped at the base of his solid neck. The hand on her back wound further around her torso so that he could pull her into him and Rick's remaining hand rested on her thigh as he buried his face in her hair.

She turned her face into his neck and whispered the only response she could muster. "But who's keeping you safe, Rick?"

Her hot breath made him shiver in the cold room. The woman had been shot, was having nightmares and living in fear of a crazy gunman, but still she worried about _his_ safety. Suddenly, here in the darkness of her apartment, they were no longer them. She was not a homicide detective. He was not a famous mystery writer. They were just Kate and Rick. Two people who needed comforting.

Both remained as perfectly still as the moth which had come to land on the lampshade beside them. Water droplets fell with a ping from her ever dripping kitchen sink across the room and slowly their heart beats slowed to its pace. An answer had not been expected when she had asked the question and he didn't give one.

Kate Beckett had somehow let most of her barriers come crumbling down and as she sat on Richard Castle's lap she did not have the willpower to panic about it. If the sun had been up and he had not opened up in response to her confession, things would have been different. She could just blame it on the alcohol tomorrow anyway, right?

Time passed in which neither spoke and it felt like a life time that was entirely too short. They clung to each other as way of saying that they were there for each other. They both understood that the other was just as scared as they were and they would get through it together, somehow.

Kate leant into him, exhausted gravity pulling her towards him like a magnet. He was warm and solid and the hand he rested on her back was heating the skin there with each circular motion it completed. Her ear was to his shoulder, her cold nose to his neck. He smelt safe. That thought would have amused her at any other time, but it was the only way she could describe it.

Rick knew that she had closed her eyes when the long eyelashes against his skin ceased their continual fluttering. Stray strands of her hair tickled his neck while his hand rubbed circles on her back. It was the only thing he could do to stop himself from grasping her in an unbreakable grip, never letting her go.

"What are your nightmares about?" Her voice pierced the air like the sounds of the surface when coming out of water. Sudden and disorienting.

He thought it was obvious but in time he answered her anyway. "The usual; Alexis, mother, bad guys…you…"

The fluttering at his neck started again and the woman in Rick's lap pulled just far enough away so that she could see his face. What he saw was confusion mixed with guilt. Both expressions the offspring of the thought of him having nightmares about her. He shook his head slightly and cradled hers with the hand from her thigh so that she was resting on his shoulder once more. Things were so much easier if he wasn't looking into those green eyes. The green eyes which he saw the life slipping out of in his nightmares…

"Almost every night it's the same. We're at the cemetery…but it's not a funeral. It's a party and everyone is having a good time, laughing and dancing…but then everything turns red. All the guests turn into you, sometimes Alexis and my mother as well, and there is just so much blood! God, Kate…" He took a deep breath, a little shaken from reliving it but also relieved at having told someone about the horrors that kept him up at night. It wasn't exactly the type of thing you told your daughter or the mother who thought that dreams meant something dramatic.

He did not continue with the story and for that she was grateful. She tightened her grip around his neck, pulling him closer. The fingers that lay between the buttons on his shirt began to lightly glide along the skin of his sternum and she felt him tense slightly at the touch. She toyed with a few of the hairs that clung to his chest as they continued playing their own version of 20 questions; 20 confessions. When you communicate silently you don't need to ask questions.

"I'm in the cemetery too, or the alley where my mum was killed, and everything is normal…but then…" Kate paused, unsure of how to word the next part. She knew it wouldn't make sense to him and deep down she knew it wasn't true either. "Everyone starts disappearing. Everyone leaves and I'm left standing there all alone. I have no one and usually wake up with an overwhelming sense of loneliness…" Even as she told the story, wrapped in his arms, the feeling gripped at her stomach.

His voice was barely audible when he whispered back, placing a side shot kiss to her temple. "You have me."

"Do I?" Her response was almost instant; unfiltered.

Rick knew what she meant. They'd lost each other to some degree over the past few months. There were no stolen touches or gazes and their usual exchange of information and stories had ceased along with their dinners or other outings that had once been the norm.

"Always."

That one little word had come to mean so much to them. It was an apology, a 'thank you', a 'you're welcome', a commitment and he was sure that she'd given it meanings which he himself did not yet understand.

._._._._._._.

Light did not wake Kate the next morning. It was her internal clock which usually saw her rising just ahead of the sun reaching high enough above the city to meet her windows. Her skin was warm apart from her feet which felt slightly numb as they hung unsupported over the arm of the couch. Without opening her eyes she knew that the blanket itching at her neck was the one that lived on the back of her couch. That meant she was in her apartment. She could not remember the last time she had slept this late into the morning when at home. Of course, it was not late at all but in comparison to waking up at 3am and not being able to fall back into slumber, this felt like a sleep in.

Josh was warm beneath her and she buried her face deeper into his neck, fighting the start of another day. As sleep slipped away to make room for consciousness, the harsh reality that clouded her nightmares struck her. Josh was gone. Montgomery was gone. Her mother was gone. Everyone was gone.

But Castle…Castle was there. His arms wrapped around her, his thumb hooked in the belt loop of her jeans the only thing that stopped his arm from falling to escape the blanket which they shared. Her jeans. She was still wearing the same clothes that she had worn to the Old Haunt.

Opening her eyes with the startled realisation of all these things, the detective saw that he too was in the midnight blue shirt from last night. She stirred, pulling away from the inviting shoulder which had served as her pillow through the night. The motion caused the blanket to fall away slightly and she saw that her hand was covered up to the wrist where it hid behind the fabric of his shirt. Oh god, she had put it there, hadn't she? The panic which she had suppressed last night did not come and that scared her even more. How could waking up in Richard Castle's arms, on his lap, feel so normal? So safe.

Slowly sliding her hand out of the warmth of his shirt, Kate began to rise. She gently removed his hand from the belt loop at her hip and settled it on the arm of the couch where her legs had been just seconds before. The cold floor boards chilled her feet and she fought the urge to gasp at the contact as she used the back of the couch as leverage to lift her hips away from his lap.

Disappointment flooded her as she straightened into a standing position, the blanket clutched in her fist. That disappointment scared her. She couldn't have those feelings. It wasn't by the books. It wasn't practical.

Bending slightly she spread the blanket out across the man asleep on her couch, his head lulled over the back of it. Her hand brushed away a few floppy pieces of hair that had fallen across his forehead and she smiled. His head rolled towards her hand at the touch and she removed it quickly, afraid he would wake up. The fact that she had fallen asleep in his arms was going to make things uncomfortable as it was. She didn't need him to know that she had instinctively brushed his hair away, too.

Retreating quickly, Kate made her way to her bedroom to grab a change of clothes before disappearing silently into the bathroom. There was no time for coffee when her head was a stew of so many things. The door fell closed with a click and she leant up against it with her eyes pinched shut, afraid it may have woken him. After a moment she decided it was safe and began undressing.

Her leather jacket landed heavily over the edge of the hamper in the corner as she threw the removed items after it. Looking down to undo her metal belt buckle that was still warm from a night of being in close quarters to Castle, she caught sight of her mother's ring dangling over her bare chest. Her hands stopped their task and instinctively moved to slip her pinkie through the ring.

The woman in the mirror stared back as Kate's eyes fell on the glass covered in the first remnants of condensation. Like any woman, her eyes fell to the flaws. First on the list for the detective was the scar that sat by the ring, mocking her. She ran a single cold fingertip over the raised mark. The skin was pink and shiny and she hated the fact that it would be there forever.

Applying pressure, Kate watched as the colour seeped out of the scar only to return again when she eased off. There was a time when she would have said that she would rather a physical scar over the emotional one which her mother's death had left. It was not until now that she realised they walked hand in hand down the street of misery.

Every time she caught sight of the mark in a mirror or felt its raised edge beneath her shirt it reminded her of the people she hated. The hate boiled up out of her stomach and she supressed the need to scream or throw something. Her hand reached angrily for something on the counter anyway, if only as a threat. The item she picked up was foreign to her. Rick's razor.

The thought of him subdued some of the hate and she stared at the object in her grasp. Its shiny blades squinted at her as she moved it from side to side, observing. He had only been staying with her for two days. When had his things started to blend with hers in the apartment? She placed the razor back on the sink and finished undressing with a feeling of defeat.

A short while later Kate stood in the kitchen completely dressed, gun holstered and badge clipped. Her feet were bare of the heels that hung from her slender fingertips beside the island. The man on her couch had not stirred and she was not surprised seeing as it was only 6am. She had gathered a pen and paper from one of the draws by the sink and she stood watching him with the pen cap pressed to her lips.

She wasn't running away. She wasn't avoiding him. He was merely asleep and not meant to be coming to the precinct today anyway. So, the fact that she was leaving him a note instead of waking him was not an escape route. It was simply common courtesy to let her house guest sleep.

Her eyes fell to the paper on the bench. It had been blank for atleast five minutes. To her, it felt like one of those competitions where your entry can only be twenty-five words or less. There were so many things she could write after last night but the paper wasn't even big enough for half of them.

The words that finally found their way onto the page took far too long to write for the amount that there were. She placed her house keys on top of the note with a sigh and walked away before she could over analyse it. Not for the first time this morning, she was thankful that he would not be at the precinct today as she softly closed the front door behind her. She slipped on her heels in the hallway and wrapped her coat securely around herself as she wandered, lost down the hallway.

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><p><em>Author's Notes: So, yeah…thoughts? <em>

_What's on the note?_


	12. Chapter 12

_Author's notes:__ Finally, WHAT'S ON THE NOTE?_

_Before you read this you should know that this was _the_ hardest chapter to write. Every chapter I write seems to be longer than the last but this one really is the longest ever because I wrote the first part over a week ago and wrote the rest this week. I did it that way (sorry it took so long!) because I felt like I had to distance myself from my writing for awhile to get a better perspective as I felt a little lost. Plus, I couldn't believe I wrote a chapter about Castle making breakfast so, well, I obviously had to add more!_

_Your reviews, alerts, favourites and just the simple fact that you guys are reading this means SO much. I especially love it when you guys tell me specific lines or things that you like. Thank you._

_Not a great deal happens in this chapter but it sets a few things up for future ones.__ I love Beckett's apartment so things got a little out of hand…I hope it's not too boring. _

_I don't like this chapter a__t all. Sorry._

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><p>Sprawled in an uncomfortably upright position with his head hanging so far over the back of the couch that anyone watching would have thought he might tip it, Richard Castle slept. He did not dream of sweet nothings, but the nightmares that usually woke him in the middle of the night did not come either. A balanced level between the contrasting two were where his unconscious mind wandered; the face of his daughter, their light saber battles, bat mobiles and, of course, his muse. Kate's face rarely flooded his dreams as a full picture. He only ever saw snippets of it at a time; her eyes, her smile, the tiny freckle beneath her eye, the organic curve of her cheek bones which reminded him of a Ferrari.<p>

These snippets morphed into a scene which he recognised as a memory from what felt like long ago. Beckett was standing next to him at the front door of a suspect's house. Her fist drummed against the solid timber with such wrath that he thought she might knock it off its hinges. He did not remember the feeling of wanting her to stop knocking when it had actually happened, but in his dreaming state there was nothing he wanted more. She yelled "Open the door!" and Castle awoke with a start. It was not his detective knocking. Someone was actually at the front door.

He jumped to his feet quickly, unsure of exactly how long they had been knocking; the dream sequence had felt like it took at least five minutes. The man discovered that speed was not an acquaintance this morning as the stiffness that had built in his back on the couch through the night made him hobble. His mind was too set on trying to look awake in case the knocker was paparazzi to register that he was in Kate Beckett's apartment and that she was nowhere to be found.

Licking his sleep dried lips and running a hand through his ruffled hair, Castle opened the door. The idea of looking through the peep hole first evaded him in his tired state as the knocker continued his impatient rhythm. In day old clothes that smelt of alcohol and cherries the writer stood in the door way looking at an equally unexpecting teenager. They stared at each other for a moment. The boy's hand was raised in a fist on a mission to knock the patience out of the sleepy writer but finally he dropped it, defeated.

"Got a package for a Mr Castle."

A box covered in postage stickers was lifted into the air between them and Rick reached for it expectantly, knowing only too well what it held. The kid pulled the box out of his reach before he could grab it and rip it open like he wanted to with the excitement that was growing where sleep faded.

"Dude, are you him?"

"Am I who?"

"The Castle guy?" This kid obviously didn't read.

"Yes, I'm him!" Castle grinned now, not caring about the ego deflation that would normally come with not being recognised in such a situation. The content of this package was much more important.

The human alarm clock shrugged. "Sorry man, I got told to give this to no one other than you." He handed over a clipboard for Castle to sign. "Must be some package, huh? What'd you buy, a collector's item off ebay or something?"

Rick laughed as he handed the clipboard back. "Something like that." The guy allowed him to take the box and he stared down at it in his hands with awe. "Thanks!"

The reply of "No probs, man." as the delivery guy made his way back down the hall was barely heard over the excitement rushing through Castle's brain. It was here finally, and just in time too.

Without taking his eyes away from the box, which was being turned over in inspection in both hands, he stepped back into the apartment and swung the door shut with his foot. It was not until then that the realisation of being fully clothed from last night hit him. The confession which had taken place on her couch that he settled back onto with the box flooded his memories and the man smiled slightly. Kate Beckett, the woman of steel, had opened up to him.

At the thought of her, Rick momentarily forgot about the package that sat staring expectantly up at him from the coffee table in front of the couch. It could wait. He'd already waited this long.

The fabric of the couch made an unusually loud noise as he slid from its surface once more. It only helped illuminate the fact that the apartment was completely still and quiet. With a quick glance down the hallway that led to her bedroom he saw that the door was open. He remembered falling to sleep with the steady rise and fall of her chest against his but he could not remember her extracting herself from him.

Had she already gone to work? He glanced down at the watch that ticked loudly at his wrist. 8AM. An unsettled feeling weighed his stomach down with the what ifs involving hit men and scenarios that should exist only between the covers of his novels.

He headed across to the kitchen to see if her keys were on the bench where she had chucked them last night with her phone. The phone was gone but the keys remained. The small selection of metal on her keychain was splayed out across a note of paper and his imagination played with the idea of robotic butterflies with the shape it made.

A scraping noise emerged from the butterfly as he slid it off the paper and onto the hard surface of the kitchen bench to reveal her pen work. Usually slopped letters that fell to paper from the quickly thinking mind of the detective sat a little straighter than normal. They had been written with careful consideration.

The warmth of his hand left a mark atop the cold bench when they made contact as he reached down to lift the paper. Rick read her neat scrawl with the carefulness of her characters in mind.

"_Try not to embarrass Alexis today.  
>Lose these and I'll shoot you.<em>

_-__ KB._"

Any unease he had felt about her whereabouts disappeared and a toothy smile spread across his stubbled face. Even if she would never admit it, he knew exactly how to translate the words of a guarded Beckett. What the note really meant was:

"_Have a good time today._

_I trust you with my house keys, don't disappoint me._

_Forever yours, Katherine Beckett._"

Castle chuckled at his own translation, thinking that the actual note was probably hinted with a touch of harsh reality; she probably would shoot him if he lost her keys. A subliminal message of 'thanks for being there last night' lingered in hopes of translation, but he dismissed it as his own feelings simply making their way into her words. The note found its way into the chest pocket of his button down, preserved above his heart.

A rumble escaped from the hole in his stomach which the unease had left and finding food became his mission. If he wasn't so hungry and, who was he kidding, if he wasn't so nosey he probably would have felt strange about looking through her kitchen cupboards. She wouldn't mind though, he was sure.

After a quick search of her kitchen he discovered that there wasn't much to snoop at anyway. The macaroni and cheese from the first night he had stayed still sat lonely on her shelf and the milk in her fridge sat beside the smallest margarine container he had ever seen. Then again, maybe the bareness of her shelves was a secret he shouldn't be looking at. It only fuelled him with more ammo, should she ever discover the true reason behind his visit.

Mac and cheese wasn't really an appropriate breakfast food. He'd done it before, but the packet of bread sitting beside the toaster on her bench caught his eye and he thought it would go nicely with the marmalade he had spotted on his search. The top piece of bread was pushed aside absently as Rick dug deeper in the packet for the next two. He didn't like eating the crust so Alexis always got left with it. It was on the stale side of things but he threw it into her toaster anyway, hoping that the cooking would mask it.

A work boot sat on her window sill above the sink as he moved to get a plate and he paused to look at the object that he hadn't noticed before. The blemishes covering the leather gave away its age and from the dirt that completely filled its insides a small cluster of purple flowers grew. It was an odd thing to find in a kitchen but the writer in him liked it; it had character. He wondered what the story behind the planter was and made a mental note to ask her about it now that she seemed to be letting those walls back down.

The toaster popped and he quickly fixed his breakfast, eager to get back to the box waiting for him on her coffee table. With one slice of toast held between his teeth and dripping marmalade onto his chin, Rick placed the plate beside the box and attempted to chew whilst ripping the tape open. A multi-tasker, he was not. The toast fell to his lap and left a wet mark on the thigh of his jeans which he wiped away before discarding the food back onto the plate. He wouldn't starve, but he might die of excitement if he didn't open the box!

The cardboard lid fell back without a sound and looking up at him was the shiny black surface of a batman suit. His teeth bit into the knuckles that had lifted to his mouth in awe and he simply sat there staring at the outfit, motionless. Today was going to be fantastic.

An unmeasurable amount of time passed as he stared at every fine detail of his purchase but he did not dare touch it with breakfast tarnished hands. Eating resumed as he reached for the television remote that had been tossed onto the coffee table. He pressed the ON button but nothing happened. He knew for a fact that his favourite cartoon was on right now. But the TV wouldn't turn on.

._._._._._._.

Beckett had arrived at the precinct with the lights on her dash flashing 6:27AM in the first light of the day. Although she always imagined that waking up in Richard Castle, famous author's arms would be a pleasant experience, she felt tense. The muscles across her shoulders pulled tight not only from the uncomfortable position they had slept in but also from the regret weighing down on her. Regret was not what she had expected, not even as she had been telling him about her nightmares, but it hung there nonetheless, heavy and ominous. Kate had always hated that part of herself. The annoying segment of her brain which wouldn't let her stand beside someone with both feet; wouldn't let her be happy. That was why Josh was gone. She hated it. It was just another scar she had acquired along the line.

Even with clearance to return to usual duties from Harrison, her doctor probably wouldn't think that hitting the gym hard would be a great idea. Kate did it anyway. Exercise had always been a release for her and she needed it. She wasn't stupid; she started off slow even though she would have been happy to hit the equipment hard and fast.

When the detective found herself bent over with sweat running down her neck towards the hand that clenched at her blasted scar, she finally stopped. Stupid bloody scar. It was the reason she was back at her desk by 7:30 when the rest of the precinct were either out on jobs or hadn't yet arrived for the day. Chemicals in her body began to cool as she sat staring aimlessly at the phone on the top of the desk. Her muscles burnt in a good way but her head was a mess. She was angry at herself. She was incapable. Incapable of working out. Incapable of expressing herself like a normal human being.

A breath of hot air escaped her lips with a low exasperated sound. What the hell was she doing? She shook her head and headed for the break room for a coffee. She could make coffee.

Lost in thought, Beckett stared at the empty cup in her hands. Had anything changed between her and Castle? Were they them again, or were they something different this time? She had hoped that they would have spoken about these things more openly since the fight when their kiss had been acknowledged. Of course though, it had never been addressed since. It wasn't until then that she realised that she hadn't turned the espresso machine on. Maybe she couldn't make coffee.

By 8 the usual bustle of the 12th had started to pick up. Ryan and Esposito had wandered in with their normal glances towards Harrison's office. They tried to act unaffected by her arrival, but from her observational position at her desk, Beckett knew they were. Montgomery's death had rocked them all on different levels.

In his memory, Monty swam laps around the castle in his tank as Kate watched, somewhat entranced by the goldfish. Life would be so much easier with a short memory span. A few flakes of food fell from her fingertips to the surface of the water. Why was she feeding the goldfish that he had bought? He should be here feeding it.

The detective had been having mixed feelings about Castle's absence today ever seen she'd woken in his arms. His being here to feed Monty was the latest excuse she had come up with in her head that justified the disappointment surrounding his absence.

She hoped he hadn't taken her note too seriously. Not after how kind he'd been the night before. He was frustratingly good at picking up on her subtext usually, but she'd never presented it to him in writing.

The phone Kate had been staring at earlier suddenly became animated and she grabbed for it quickly, hoping it would be a case that would get her away from these ridiculously jumbled thoughts in her head. Catching a glimpse of the caller ID, she paused. Castle.

With a low groan she let the phone continue to ring for a few more beats. She ignored the questioning stares from Ryan and Esposito from across the bullpen as her thoughts proceeded to ponder too much. How should she answer the phone? With the usual 'Beckett'? She didn't want to come off as too firm after last night. But Castle needed boundaries. Did she want those boundaries to exist?

"Hey." Simple, friendly and not too out of the norm. It would work.

"Hey." Castle responded with an oddly high pitch in his voice.

To hell with carefully constructed sentences. "What did you break?"

"Well technically I didn't touch it so I don't know if you can really say I broke it," The man's words came out in a rush that made him sound like a child in trouble. "But your T.V. won't turn on and I want to watch cartoons." She could hear the pout through the phone.

Although he couldn't see it, Beckett bit her lip and rested her head in her hand. "You broke my T.V.?"

"I'm sorry, I'll buy you a new one! Just wanted to let you know in case you got home before I did tonight. Which actually wouldn't work anyway considering I have your key…"

Before she could respond he heard a muffled voice in the background on her end of the phone.

"Hang on a sec, Castle."

The muffled voices were distorted through her hand covering the mouthpiece of the phone, but Rick could pick up the voice of his buddies. Beckett's voice was clearer than theirs, even through her hand.

In the incredibly girly voice that sometimes escaped her lips and made his eyes wrinkle at the corners, he heard her say, "No! I am not asking him that!"

After a few more seconds of hushed conversation that he could not properly hear, Beckett finally uncovered the mouth piece. She sounded a mix of amused, curious and embarrassed when she finally spoke.

"What are you wearing, Castle?"

His response was quick. "Why detective, it's a little early in the morning for dirty talk, don't you think?" It came out in a low and seductive voice which caused her to duck her head so that the boys wouldn't see the smile that spread across her face.

She came back fast and without the slightest trace of a smile in her voice. "I didn't think it'd ever be too early for a playboy like you, Ricky."

The silence that came next brought a laugh out of her and she openly admitted to herself for the first time that she wished he were there. Things hadn't changed between them. Not in a bad way anyway.

"_Ryan _and_ Esposito_ would like to know what you are wearing to the _convention_ today."

Finally finding his words, the writer laughed as well. "Don't think you can use them to find out what shade of spandex I'm wearing."

The pause that came before she spoke let him know that he'd flustered her. "Shut up, Writer _Boy_."

Her hand covered the mouthpiece once more and he heard her tell the boys in a muffled voice to get back to work.

"Hey, Kate?"

"What?"

"I won't lose your keys."

The way he said it made her understand without a doubt that he had understood the underlying message. Keys were by no means an issue; she had a spare and could easily change her locks. He was vowing to not let her down, not hurt her.

"Thanks." Their conversation had turned serious and both sat in silence for a moment, absorbing what had been said, or rather, implied. The feeling that always comes when it is reaching the time to hang up flooded through both of them as they realised that this would have to be discussed further at another time. "Hey, Rick?"

"Yeah?"

"Try switching the T.V. on at the power point first." Kate never left it turned on at the wall. She was never home enough to watch it so she had never seen the point.

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><p><em>Author's Notes: Did the note live up to your expectations? Liked it? Didn't like it? Thought something else would have been better? Let me know! =)<em>

_Besides the obvious, __I hope the breakfast part didn't suck too badly. I was attempting to show Castle's sporadic mind with flipping between food, boots, batman suits and T.V._

_Also, random fun fact__s for you all: _

_I'm currently digging an Aussie band called the Cassette Kids but I accidentally keep referring to t__hem as the Caskett Kids._

_The __species name of Spinifex Hopping Mice is alexis._

_I just stumbled upon an old photograph__ from the 1800s on the Victoria Museum website and it has a woman named Kate Beckett who is the wife of a doctor named Tom. _


	13. Chapter 13

_Author's notes:__ I'm back! With a big Caskett-y chapter and an even bigger apology – life has been crazy lately and any spare moment I've had has been spent reading Of Finding Innocence. If you're not reading that story, don't even bother reading this. GO READ IT! If you're reading this to fill in time whilst eagerly awaiting a new OFI chapter, I hope you enjoy it._

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><p>"God, he's going to love this."<p>

Detective Beckett walked to the front of the car she had just parked and a hint of regret clipped at her words as she met Esposito and Ryan on the footpath. Of all the cases, of all the people, of all the places…

"Don't worry, Beckett-" Ryan's voice was just as smooth as usual, only slightly tainted with the beginnings of sarcasm, before being interrupted by his partner who did not seek to hide the amusement.

"We won't tell him you hired a hitman so that you could see his costume."

They waited for the eye roll which inevitably came as they walked towards the building in which Castle was roaming around dressed as Batman. When the call had come in around lunch time the boys were ecstatic. All morning they had been trying to think up ways to find out what the writer was wearing after he had left them hanging with the phone call. Beckett had not participated; she hunched over the paperwork which all three were suppose to be doing and only occasionally allowed her self to imagine what they so badly wanted to know.

All three chose to ignore the bad taste of the joke, considering recent events. "Yo, how come you don't know what he's wearing anyway?"

"Yeah, isn't he staying with you?"

"Clothing hasn't really been a high priority..." Beckett intended for the men who she loved like brothers to take that sentence straight to the gutter. When they looked incredulously between each other and her, she only pretended to look shocked at the conclusion they had obviously drawn.

Her heels clicking against the hardwood floor inside the building sounded foreign amongst the slapping steps of flat footed folks whom Esposito had referred to as 'nerdtrons' on the way out of the 12th. Before Beckett could open her mouth in their defense, and in her own comic loving defense, Ryan had given him a stern look and told him to act cool. For that she was grateful. They'd all seen the glossy pages in Ryan's bottom draw but neither of them knew about hers. She had shaken her head as they'd stepped from the elevator, having some vague memory of Esposito huddling at the other man's desk on a slow day.

If it weren't for the red shock of hair standing between the detective and the uniforms on the other side of the room, Beckett never would have guessed the owner of the costume which made her lips drop open with a pop. Her first thought, once she was capable of it and the falter in her step beside the boys had smoothed out, was wondering if the costume was padded because damn, the suits he usually wore never showed off definition like that. With a subtle flick of her wrist, the detective indicated Castle's location to the men beside her as they continued towards him. Their expressions were a mix of awe and surprise.

A few short steps from the writer and his daughter, Esposito closed the gap with a leap. His hand shot down, thinly holding the respectable detective aura, to cup Castle's rear end in a lightning fast motion that resulted in a startled jump from the superhero. It would have been missed by anyone else in the room. "Nice tights, Batman."

Castle turned to face his groper, Alexis a flame trailing only seconds behind. "Espo'? What are you guys doing here?"

"We got a case." The other man nodded his head towards the uniforms on the far side of the room.

Ryan came out of his awestruck state to comment. "Seriously, dude, nice suit. Where'd you get it?"

The writer was all teeth and high pitch as he grinned back. "Right? You'd be amazed what you can find on Ebay."

"You know, Castle, I would have pegged you for more of a vintage man." Beckett's voice came out steadier than she would have expected she was capable of with her excitement that matched the men's. She was sure her colleagues' admiration did not entirely match her own, however, but she played it off in her usual nonchalant way. "Old school grey suit with the yellow belt? Now that's a Batsuit." She wouldn't admit that his suit was impressive, or that it was in fact her favourite version of the famous costume to date. Whether the original story or the current occupant of the outfit defined her favourite, Kate would not acknowledge.

"A woman who knows the evolution of Batman. Where have you been all my life?"

"I don't know. When was the last shower?"

The playful jab thrown at her father by the detective brought an involuntary snicker out of Alexis. Kate's grin broke free despite her attempt to keep it hidden to add a mock seriousness to her joke. Alexis had been hostile about their pairing ever since the shooting. She couldn't blame the girl, hell she even agreed with his daughter to some extent, but she was glad that she had not been the sole participant in robbing the girl of her innocent optimist outlook on life. Even something as simple as an escaped chuckle let Kate see past the unnatural mask of hardness that had darkened the girl's face over the past few months.

"Oh, cute!" Castle chuckled, oblivious to their audience, as always when he was word sparring with his detective. "You do realise that implying that I came down in the last shower also implies that I'm young and handsome, right?"

"I don't know about that, Castle. I've seen some pretty ugly babies in my time."

Before Rick could respond with anything other than a sly grin, Esposito bumped Ryan with his shoulder. "Come on bro; let's go solve this murder before these two give us another one to work on."

The two detectives moved off without another word, leaving Castle and Beckett staring each other down. His blue eyes looked like sapphires against the stark blackness of his mask. She fought to keep eye contact as her lids threatened to draw her vision back down to the body of the suit. The body in the suit.

"Ashley! Hey."

Both adults turned towards the all but forgotten remaining member of their audience. Alexis' casual outfit suddenly made a lot more sense to Kate next to the Spider-man attire of her boyfriend as he took her hand. Mary Jane and Peter Parker. Cute.

"Mr. Castle." Ashley offered a respectful nod, as always. It would have amused the writer if the younger male wasn't dating his daughter.

"Ashley. What are you doing here? I didn't know you were coming."

"Sorry Dad, I invited him last week. I must have forgotten to tell you. Since you've got a case now, you don't mind if we…" His daughter's words came out in a rush before she trailed off with a nimble gesture towards a cafeteria across the room.

"Uhhh…I…I guess—" Had Richard Castle just been ditched by his own daughter?

"Cool, thanks Dad. I'll talk to you later. Bye Detective Beckett!" With a lightning fast wave of her hand, Alexis reeled her boyfriend away from the adults by their joined hands.

"Ouch." Despite the amusement in her tone, Beckett felt bad for him. He had been looking forward to spending time with his daughter at their annual event. The gentle hand she placed on Rick's shoulder had him turning to face her. "You don't have to work the case with us, you know? You can stay."

He looked defeated. "I don't think I'm needed here anymore."

In a sort of touching game that they often played, Castle placed his hand on the small of her back and they began making their way towards the crime scene. Kate refrained from making a jab about them not needing him at the precinct either. He was already hurting and it would only be a lie anyway.

"Look on the bright side, Castle; Alexis could have dressed up as a black-leather-wearing-superhero instead of Mary Jane."

He didn't respond with anything more than a worried glance back towards the cafeteria in which his little girl had disappeared.

A few steps from the scene, his mask came back out to play. "You know, Detective, you didn't have to fight off the other teams at the precinct for this case. You could have just asked about my costume."

Beckett shot him a look. She _had_ asked. "What have we got, Ryan?"

Her question was momentarily dismissed as Ryan and Esposito turned towards them. They had obviously been having their own discussion.

"So, Castle, you've been staying with Beckett for a few days now. Seen her in her jammies yet?" God, they were worse than elementary school kids picking and prying on their prey.

The writer winked suggestively. "Who said she wears jammies?"

Kate could not have planned the correlation of his statement with her own on the way into the building better if she had tried. Her lips became pinched in a straight line in an almost hopeless attempt to hide an involuntary smile behind the laugh which rumbled up through her chest before being expelled as a low breath with the return of composure.

._._._._._._._.

"You know, I named Alexis after that car."

The black coated bicep Kate had been attempting to ignore on the drive back to the 12th shot out towards her, pointing at a vehicle beside theirs. Traffic was slow, but moving, and she had been concentrating unnecessarily hard on the world beyond the windshield.

It was a cherry-red Lexus lf-a. "Sure you did, Castle." She would focus on the organic lines of the car, not the chiselled lines of his arm.

"I did!"

"Uh huh."

Those biceps moved to fold over the Batman logo on the wide expanse of his chest as a pouting lip stuck out from below his mask. "Fine, don't believe me."

"Don't worry, I don't."

"Good."

"Perfect."

"I know you are, but what am I?"

Castle's voice was thick with boyish charm, a little over played if Kate was honest, but he turned in his seat to look at her. Anything beyond the thick layer of glass separating them from the world was forgotten as she realised what he had just said. Had he meant to say it? Had he meant it like that? What did it mean if he had? Why was he looking at her like that? Like she was the only thing on Earth. Her tongue stuck into the side of her cheek as she terminated the complicated thought process.

With a light nudge of her elbow into his ribs, the detective finally glanced towards him. "And I was named after Princess Katherine." When in doubt, turn everything into a joke.

._._._._._._.

"Castle, why the hell are you dressed like Batman in my precinct?"

His mouth opened and closed without purpose as he stared up at the Captain.

"Go and get changed. You're making a mockery out of the department sitting here dressed like that."

Castle rose quickly, shooting Beckett a disbelieving look which she ignored, turning towards her superior. She got the feeling that the Captain was waiting. For what, she did not know, so she instead watched her writer's seemingly long decent across the bull pen. They had been too busy to worry about him changing on their way over to the 12th. That was what she would tell anyone if they asked anyway. Kate would be secretly sad to see the costume go.

Harrison finally cleared her throat, drawing the detective's attention back to where she towered above her desk. "Detective, I don't like it when members of my team get involved. It's messy." She had been waiting for Castle to leave. Too shocked to speak and without a clue of what she would say anyway, Beckett let her continue. "Emotions get in the way of the job and when things go wrong, and they usually do when you're working and sleeping with them, it's bad for me."

Finding her words, Kate Beckett straightened in her chair. "Captain, Castle and I, we're not…I'm not sleeping with him."

Eyeing the younger woman sitting before her, Harrison considered it. "He's staying with you, no?"

"He is." What was her point?

"I've been married for fifteen years, detective. I give it to the end of the week."

Uncertain of whether to be more shocked by the newly discovered fact that the she-devil was married or the Captain's bold bet on her complicated relationship with Castle, Kate simply stared at her.

"It's a good thing he technically isn't an employee, huh?" With a wink so subtle that the other woman barely caught it, Captain Harrison strode back into her office.

Was that…acceptance? Permission? What ever it was, it left Kate with an overwhelming sense of confusion.

* * *

><p><em>Author's Notes:<em>_ Having been M.I.A. for so long, I will be nervously awaiting feedback (if you guys are still kind enough to read this that is). There are HEAPS (by my standards) of people with this story on their alerts so I have a request – pretty please with cherries on top (Beckett reference intended) leave me reviews. Even just one word ones saying "more" or "stop" so I know whether you guys are still with me or not. Please and thank you =)._

_Oh, and I hope you can't tell that I know next to nothing about Batman._


	14. Chapter 14

_Author's notes:__ Before you read this chapter I just want to point out something that was brought to my attention about the last chapter. I wrongly assumed that everyone knew the saying "he came down in the last shower", so if you were confused about that in chapter 13, it basically means that someone is a little green or stupid. Sorry if you were confused._

_Oh, and _lv2bnsb1_ I checked for you – I think I first published the Batman thing back on about August 25__th__. Thanks for the review, man. I totally had the same thought! Lol =)_

_Now for this chapter, I've had this idea forever! I was tempted to write a one shot just so I didn't have t__o write the 13 chapters that led to this point lol. I hope you like it, and I want to know what you think. I'm incredibly grateful for your feedback. Thank you so much to the persistently lovely people who drive me to write more and thank you all for getting me over the 100 review mark! I know that reviews aren't the be-all and end-all, but I see it as an achievement and I sincerely appreciate them, so thank you._

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><p>An unsolved case was always a sure fire way to keep a homicide detective awake in the treacherous hours separating night from day. Kate shifted, again, between the sheets which had long ago lost any remnant of untouched coldness. As the unsettled hours had passed, every inch of the mattress had been rumpled by the unceasing movement of the woman attempting sleep.<p>

How do you murder someone in the middle of a crowded event without anyone noticing? The detectives and their writer met the uniforms at the scene; a strangled body lay on the floor of a makeshift fitting room. Beckett had marvelled at the closeness between the shades of crimson as she watched the blood soak through the red carpet that had been rolled out as a temporary floor. Lanie spoke from somewhere down near the body while Kate had looked around the long row of curtained off booths. Easy enough entry and exit, even if you didn't come through the 'door'. Quiet fitting rooms had always given her the spooks; the attendants never seemed alert enough to notice if you never came back out. This one, however, had been jammed packed full of costume-wearing folk all day. That was the only information they had been able to get out of the guy manning the stall that sold an array of superhero clad clothing. Useless.

The smart killers were always the hardest to catch. Methodical. Carefully measured. They worked like chefs with a recipe. Eventually though, Beckett knew that they always made a mistake - missed a step in their carefully calculated plan which would have her coming after them with everything she had.

If she was honest with herself, the unsolved murder was not all that had Kate Beckett tossing and turning in the darkness of her bedroom. Harrison's comment earlier in the day had seeped through the hardened exterior which normally prevented stewing over such thoughts. Richard Castle.

A low creak pierced the night as the old building shifted in the cold air and she groaned before rolling once more. Even the thin layers of plaster and wood separating Kate from the man who invaded her thoughts were against her, taunting her.

The clock blinking on the bedside table had only increased by two figures since her last frustrated check. A breath of hot air shook her pouting bottom lip as it escaped into the cold of night in a sigh. She wanted to go to the precinct. She wanted to be moving, both in a case sense and physically. She had to solve this. She had to fix this. But it was 2:05 AM and Castle was there to stop her.

The blankets were thrown back with such force that they nearly slipped from the edge of the bed. Kate kicked at them for good measure. Useless, stifling things. She had to move. Water would calm her – cool her furiously ticking mind. Rick wouldn't be awake at this hour, she was sure. Grateful for the realisation, she rose from the bed. She wouldn't be able to handle him right now. Her guard was down.

Lying awake examining the ceiling for so long had given her impeccable night vision. She slinked along the shadowed hallway without raising a single hand to the wall in guidance. Castle was a tranquil figure in the corner of her eye as she lifted a hand towards the metallic double doors of the fridge. It opened with a click and she froze when the bright light from inside cast her shadow across the floor of the open plan room. She hadn't remembered the appliance ever being so loud. Grabbing a bottle of water, Beckett turned slowly as she closed the door with a soft thud to check if he had woken. Nothing. Safe.

Kate leaned her cheek against the cold door to examine her partner. The pillow she had given him on the first night sat discarded beside the couch and his tussled head lay upon the blue and red stripes of her Union Jack cushion instead. The side of his face was pushed into it, causing those often pouting lips to part and distort. She gulped down some water.

For the first time, the detective noticed how small her couch actually was. Rick's bare feet hung over the end, not even covered by the blanket that barely reached his ankles and stopped just shy of his shoulder at the other end. She sighed into the darkness as an internal battle raged. He'd have a sore back when he woke up. As long as he didn't complain at work, why should she care? She'd fallen asleep in his arms last night. He hadn't mentioned it. It was a cold night. He had sweats and a long sleeved t-shirt. He'd offered her a whole guest room during her stay at the loft. She didn't have a guest room. She could share her room. He'd never let her hear the end of it. What would people think? She didn't care what people thought. She could care less what Harrison thought.

Lines that usually marked his face were smoothed with slumber until he was left looking innocent and peaceful. Such an image was enough to make the decision for her. She needed him well rested for tomorrow; for the case.

Swallowing the final straw of hesitation, Kate clenched her eyes shut, leaned heavily against the fridge and then pushed away from it with her shoulder. Water sloshed in the empty space at the top of the bottle as she near slammed it onto the kitchen bench before reopening her eyes. She couldn't make him sleep on the couch again.

Steps became stomps as she neared him. Although, they weren't very loud as she suddenly realised what she was about to do – without her power heels. They weren't angry stomps. They were 'I-am-in-control-of-this-situation' stomps.

"Castle." Kate nudged his shoulder with her knee.

His only reply was in the form of scrunching his face and borrowing it deeper into her cushion.

Bending, she cupped his cheek in attempt number two of waking her writer but he surprised her by leaning into her palm, still asleep. She ran her thumb over his stubbled cheek before removing her hand and quickly standing. Maybe this wasn't such a good idea. She couldn't back out now. What if he was pretending to be asleep? How creepy would she look watching him in his sleep?

He jumped awake when she ripped the blanket off of his body, leaving him sprawled at an awkward angle with eyes wide in alarm. His baby blues reminded her of the ocean at night as they come to rest on her, standing above him with the blanket clutched in one fist.

"Get up." Blunt. Blunt was safe.

Sleep gripped at Rick's tongue as he spluttered. "Kate…?"

"Just…get up!" He stared at her questioningly but made no attempt to move. "Before I change my mind, Castle."

The tone she used had him unfolding himself off the small couch and into a standing position in front of her. She made no attempt to step backwards so he rubbed at his hair to shake any remaining slumber - and the slight swaying her sudden closeness brought. He couldn't help but notice their height difference which was usually evaded by her heels. She looked small. Even with her features only vaguely illuminated by the city lights outside the window he could read her expression – uncertain, frustrated and, if he wasn't mistaken, nervous.

"If you didn't want me staying with you, you could have just told me. It's the middle of the night, Kate, can't this wait?"

Rolling her eyes at him, she let the blanket float to the floor and reached out to grab his hand that wasn't occupying the disjointed hair she longed to flatten. Walking came as an afterthought to Castle as she started pulling him along behind her. Was she really throwing him out at – he pulled his iPhone from a pocket in his pants to check the time before slipping it back in – just after 2AM?

Incredulous, the man stopped walking and Kate's grip on his hand would have faltered if he hadn't been holding hers too. With the step she took towards him, Rick saw a flash of confusion as she raised a single eyebrow. They stared at each other; a silent conversation about unknowingly different topics from either side.

If it were possible, he thought she looked even smaller than she had beside the couch as she glanced back over her shoulder in the direction they had been heading. She focused back on him. "Are you coming?"

That line had been used before but this time it wasn't filled with sass. The humour had been replaced by uncertainty. Her voice was almost quieter than the muffled sounds of the city outside. As their destination finally became apparent to him, Castle let free an uncontrolled grin which shattered her uncertainty like glass. The cute little line that knitted between her eyebrows whenever she was concentrating broke and an involuntary smile graced her face in return.

Although it was unnecessary, because he was already moving towards her again, Kate gently squeezed his hand and gave it a little tug in her direction. At the threshold of her bedroom though, she came to an abrupt stop, turned on her heel and prevented him from crashing into her by placing her free hand on his chest. Memories of his Batman suit came back with the contact to disrupt the control she had kept up until this point. So she told him, for old time's sake, the only thing she could thing of.

"No funny business. I still sleep with that gun."

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><p><em>Author's Notes: So, what did you think? Too OOC?<br>I'm undecided about how quickly/far their relationsh__ip should develop at this stage. I'm open to suggestions though... My only hesitance is from an uncertainty of how well I will be able to write said developments._

_Sorry it was a little short.__ There is more already written but this seemed like a good (possibly torturous) place to stop. I wanted to have updated before now but it's nearing the end of semester so I'm frantically attempting to finish assignments and study for finals. Back to learning about artificial insemination. Argh. More soon, though! =)_


	15. Chapter 15

_Author's notes:__ I lied. Reviews are the be-all and end-all. Keep them coming! I love them. _

_This is a bit of a shorty, but I hope you'll like it anyway. Pick something you like (or don't like) and tell me so I can improve future chapters accordingly. Please._

_Itunes threw Adele's 'love song' at me while I was rereading through this…__kinda fits with the slow-motion feel of the scene…just sayin'._

_Disclaimer: __Don't own anything, but I do know people called Kate and Rick. Does that count for anything…?_

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><p>The door was left ajar once the pair had entered her bedroom. Beckett had done it intentionally; afraid of what he might think if she shut it behind them. It was ridiculous, she knew. But it was just another physicality of her internal wall.<p>

"Have you been wrestling tigers in here, Detective?" Castle's words were mocking as he waved a hand towards the extremely rumpled bed, hoping that a bit of banter would keep her from thinking too much about the situation.

She shuffled awkwardly around to one side and simply said, "Couldn't sleep."

Rick placed his phone on the bedside table and waited until he could see her silhouette lowering to the bed against the faint glow of the clock before he acted. His hesitance stemmed from the fear that she would suddenly change her mind about the alien situation. Not mentioning the fact that he would normally sleep on the side that she had just occupied, the writer followed his muse into a reclined position.

As she slid back into the bed, Kate was surprised to find the fabric of her blankets had returned to some level of coolness. Had she really been watching him for that long? She lay on her back with her hands crossed on top of the blankets at her chest; an awkward position that reminded her of Lanie's corpses. He did the same. Nobody spoke. The silence was deafening. Her eyes roamed aimlessly in the dark as sounds from the immediate vicinity gripped at her ears; the steady buzz of electricity, his breathing and the slight rattling of the window panel against a gust of wind which sought her attention wider. A siren whirred somewhere on a distant New York street below and it reminded her of the case. It reinstalled her restlessness. Just when Kate considered moving to see if he would mimic her actions, he finally spoke.

"My feet are cold."

The detective snorted into the darkness despite herself. "You better choose your next line carefully, Castle. Ashley is probably using the same one on Alexis right now."

The father chuckled, confident. "You forget. They're sleeping in separate rooms."

"_You_ forget. They're teenagers. They probably have tabs on his parents' sleeping routine after having staying together for a few days. As soon as mom and dad go to bed for the night-"

With confidence shot, Castle started to sit up, reaching for his phone. "I'm going to kill him if he snuck into her bedroom!"

His partner laughed, stopping his ascend with a lingering hand to the forearm. "_She_ probably snuck into _his_ room."

"She wouldn't!" He was flabbergasted.

It only made Beckett chuckle more. "Alexis isn't a little kid any more, you do realise? Don't you remember what you were like at her age?"

Struggling against her grip on his arm, Castle tried to sit up again. "Oh, God!" He remembered exactly what he had been like at his daughter's age.

Beckett could picture the look on his face even though she couldn't see it very well in the darkness. She rolled onto her side towards him and laid a stern hand on his chest. "Calm down, Papa Bear. They're probably both sound asleep, in their own beds, dreaming about princesses and evil dragons."

His chest expanded below her comparatively small hand as he tried to push the worry away. "You're mean."

For reasons unknown to either of them, Kate's hand remained firmly planted where it lay. They were still definitively on opposite sides of the bed as she felt his breathing even out below her touch. The corner of her mouth twitched as she considered how nice the warmth radiating from his solid chest felt. Somehow, in the darkness, it was ok to admit that to herself. It faded the loneliness that the hot metal of the bullet had installed, even if only slightly.

"I still can't believe she ditched me today." 'Hurt' was the only way to describe the quiet tone that made her hand vibrate atop his sternum.

She considered him, her thumb unconsciously making patterns against his shirt. "You're lucky though, you know? A lot of teenage girls wouldn't be caught dead with their father in public."

The hand that found Kate's on his chest had her fighting the urge to pull away; to declare this entire encounter one big mistake.

A serious sigh escaped Rick as he hooked his thumb across the back of her fingers, keeping them in place. "I know."

A beat passed in which she lightly squeezed his hand before adding, "Why did you let her stay with Ashley, anyway?"

"I overheard her on the phone…telling one of her friends that she wanted to move in with him… I'm hoping this week will make her change her mind."

She felt bad for having teased him but smiled at his parenting techniques. "Do you think it will work?"

"Probably not."

"She's bound to move out sooner or later."

"But does it have to be so soon?"

"Alexis is the only person who gets to answer that one, unfortunately."

Kate was grateful for the distraction from her own troubles that their pillow talk had allowed. They fell back into silence but this time it was comfortable instead of awkward. He was not a famous author and she was not a homicide detective. They were simply a man and a woman in a bed.

"My feet really are cold, you know?" He missed the weight of her hand as soon as it was gone.

"Goodnight, Castle."

._._._._._._._.

Hazel eyes with wide pupils met the dull light of dawn as Kate awoke with a start. She'd been having a nightmare about Montgomery. There had been blood – a lot of blood.

As her eyes relaxed back to a normal circumference, the rest of her body followed, beginning with her right hand. Her right hand which was lying beside her head on the pillow, threaded through the fingers of the man beside her. If the image so close to her face, as she lay on her stomach with her head turned towards him, hadn't actually soothed the ripping fear of the nightmare, she probably would have tensed right back up. Instead, the brunette blinked a few times as she assessed the situation, having no idea how they had ended up that way.

She could extract her hand, jump from the bed and forget that last night ever happened. She could revel in their contact, go back to sleep, and let him decide how they'd handle the situation when he woke up.

The hair that wilted across Rick's forehead looked tainted with honey when a beam of soft morning light shone through a gap in her curtains. At this proximity, Kate could see each tiny fragment of skin that made up his face and she liked the way that some were speckled with the emergence of morning stubble. It reminded her of their early days; the days when she had not yet seen below the playboy exterior. It struck her then that they may be more similar than she thought. Despite their vast differences in lifestyles, they'd both been hurt - they both had walls. Knowing how hard it was to let people in, she found herself grateful for the glimpses that he had allowed her.

"You're watching me sleep." His eyes were closed and his voice was rough with sleep as he stated the fact. It wasn't a question.

Busted. She could pretend she was asleep.

"How did you know I was awake?" Both of their tones were hushed, holding the secrets of the world inside their own little bubble.

She _should_ have pretended she was asleep. Magnificent blue eyes met Kate's and she caught herself playing with the idea of making this a regular way to start her mornings.

Lying on his back with his right hand below hers, Castle rolled slightly until he could reach her face with his left. Her eyes didn't leave his face as she watched the blue orbs follow his digits all the way to her face. A sweat moistened strand of hair stuck to her cheek; a remnant of the nightmare. He brushed it ever so lightly back behind her ear before finding her eyes again.

"You stopped mumbling in your sleep."

Kate wasn't sure if she liked that he seemed to be able to see into her soul. It was too early in the morning to consider such things and she hadn't even had her coffee yet. They simply continued to stare at each other. When had this begun to feel somewhat normal after the fiasco in this very apartment only months before?

"Nightmare?"

She hated to draw comparisons, but Josh never would have paid enough attention to have noticed that; to read the subtle signs on her face. Her head nodded of its own accord against his fingers curled around her ear, holding the stray lock in place. Perhaps it was his experience with Alexis, but Kate suddenly felt like a small child - an open book to knowing eyes of a parent. She hoped he couldn't feel her pulse thumping along with her erratic heart. Whether from the nightmare or from him, she did not know.

"Want to talk about it?"

At the end of the day, they were still them, no matter what developments were unconsciously taking place. "Careful, Ricky, you'll lose your 'rugged' adjective if people hear you talking about feelings." In other words, no, she didn't want to talk about it. Her eyes dared him to question her further.

A huge lazy grin split his face in two. "So long as I hold onto 'handsome'."

Beckett's grin was just as large; mocking. "Did you ever really have that one?"

Lying there beside him, staring into his eyes, she couldn't deny that he was indeed handsome. But he didn't have to know that.

Castle wriggled both dark strikes of his eyebrows at her. He already knew.

They fell into silence, smiles slowly fading into complex expressions, as they stared at each other. Silent communication was certainly their forte, yet how was it possible that after so much time, many things still went unsaid? Another defence strategy on both of their behalves, Kate thought. If you did not speak of something, did not acknowledge it, was it real? Did it exist? Once it was spoken aloud, she knew that it would have to be discussed again. It would become real whether you liked it or not.

The thumb of the hand which Kate had not for a second forgotten about at her ear gently brushed the cheekbone below her eye. It reminded him of a porcelain doll. Her long lashes fell almost shut as she focused downwards at his thumb, as though it were a sentence in their current conversation; straining to look anywhere but at his all too inviting eyes.

A tone that the woman was beginning to despise came from somewhere behind her and she cast her eyes back up to his; the phone. Rick's baby-blues became even scarier to her than they had been only seconds before; a development the detective would have bet impossible. He was telling her that this was not over. Despite her theory, they were going to speak of this again. Of what exactly 'this' was, she was still unsure, but they were going to be discussing it.

Rick reluctantly moved his hand after the third ring and Kate rolled slightly to grab the device off of the bedside table. When she returned to lie on her back, Castle was a lot closer than he had been. His head was hovering beside her pillow and she paused for a heartbeat before letting her head fall back to its place, ceasing the ringing.

"Beckett."

The man beside her shuffled his body closer to hers, causing the mattress to dip in the middle with a movement that rolled her into him. He stopped moving. Their shoulders were brushing. His foot fell to the side, toes gently caressing her ankle. His head was on her pillow, pushed up alongside her own in an attempt to hear the voice of the caller. It took Kate less than a second to realise all of these things. He didn't even seem aware as his eyes absently roamed the ceiling in wait of a reply from the person on the line.

"Yo, Beckett. Sorry to call so early."

Esposito sounded fresh out of bed as she felt Castle stretch the full length of his arm back towards 'his' bedside table to reach the phone he'd put there the night before. He brought it up to his face – _their_ faces, in such close quarters – to check the time.

"It's fine, Espo'. What's up?"

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><p><em>Author's Notes: <em>_Somehow my email alerts got turned off and my PM-ing got disabled, so sorry if anyone has tried to PM me. I think it's fixed now. And again, thank you guys so much for every review, alert, favourite, PM – everything! I seriously appreciate each one so much. =)_

_Thoughts__?_


	16. Chapter 16

_Author's notes: Thank you guys so, so much for all of your kindness!_

* * *

><p>Esposito had rung to let them in on a discovery he'd made. Similarly unable to sleep, he had been up early trolling the website forum of the comic book event which had become their murder scene. Attendees from out of town had started a thread discussing local hotels in the city which would cater to their needs. The detective had told Beckett that the group seemed to be split between the low budget Goodfield and the grand Greenacre hotels. With little other leads it appeared a reasonable starting point. By the time they clicked off it was decided that Esposito and Ryan would go to the Goodfield and Beckett and Castle would go to the Greenacre. She told him to speak to hotel staff and knock on every door if they had to. With no real witnesses the day before, this could dig up something that they'd missed at the scene. Maybe someone would remember something after having slept on it. It was flimsy, but it was a start.<p>

When Esposito had mentioned the Greenacre Castle had stiffened slightly beside her. Dismissing it as him not wanting to leave the warmth of her bed, Kate dropped her phone back onto the bedside table and threw the covers back with more force than was necessary. If she stayed there any longer she would be tempted to call Esposito back and tell him to go to both hotels. She had better places to be.

They had migrated to the kitchen after a reluctant groan from Rick who had pulled the blankets up over his head to form a cherry scented cocoon. He had inhaled deeply, not willing to give up this rare chance of basking in Kate Beckett's bed until her pillow had flown across the mattress to whack him in the chest. Despite her actions, she had told him that he didn't have to come to work with her if he didn't want to but it had in fact only made him clamber to his feet faster. He muttered something about wanting to go, just as she stepped out into the hallway and out of ear shot.

With coffee cups in hands, the pair made a right angle in the corner of her kitchen bench, waiting for the toaster to pop. Kate's neck was bowed down towards her chest as she examined their closely placed feet. Both sets were clad in bed socks; hers a royal-purple, his navy-blue with bright red characters from the Angry Birds game. She would have poked fun at him for them if she hadn't suddenly become aware of her own appearance.

Natural brown waves which had become a more frequent occurrence than her often straight hair fought against the tie that attempted to hold them behind her head in a bun. Her NYPD hoody, although he had complimented it, felt too big and not nearly as feminine as she would have liked. The tights she wore beneath them felt far too clingy in comparison and she found herself reaching down in an attempt to pull the hoody lower down over her legs. Makeup-free eyes cast back up towards her guest as a thought struck her. Why did she care what she looked like?

"Rick, about last night…"

Regret was not a denominator in this complicated equation but the detective sought to clarify the situation. They were just two adults who had shared a bed. It had meant nothing, right? She sipped her coffee as a way of stalling to gather her thoughts. When he simply tasted his own coffee in response, Kate turned slightly to place her mug on the bench behind her. She hoped it would give him the hint that she was serious; she wanted to make this point clear.

Richard Castle was not used to sharing sleeping quarters with women who were not throwing themselves at him, it was true. But this was Beckett. He would never expect such things from her. She had much more self-respect than that. And he had not been bold enough to risk making a move, despite how much he may have wanted to.

He watched her place her coffee on the bench and a grin pulled at the corners of his mouth hidden behind the mug as he took her in. She had wild curls caressing her sleep-flushed cheeks and the oversized hoody made her look tiny as she crossed her arms and firmly planted both socked feet onto the floor beside his own. Even with bed hair and a nervously determined look plastered on her face, she was his image of perfect.

Pushing himself away from the bench which he had been leaning on with his hip, Rick was embodied by a confidence that often escaped him around the hard-nosed detective. In one swift motion he was directly in front of her, the safety of their right angle all but forgotten. One of his hands came to her hip before she had time to really register his actions and the other reached behind her to place his coffee beside her own discarded cup.

The quiet clack of the ceramic object being placed on the hard surface made her jump almost as much as the contact of his hand on her hip had done. Having come to a mutual level of trust over the years, she did not fight him as his other hand came to rest on her free hip. With arms still folded over her chest and spine straightened with determination, she was at her full bare footed height. Even so, she marvelled at the enormity of the broad chest towering so closely in front of her as her eyes merely met the chin above it. A stray thought ran through her mind with the question of burning toast. It suddenly felt a lot warmer in the previously cold room.

His cocky smile had bloomed out of nowhere and at first it confused her. Kate had been trying to be serious with him.

"Do you really think I would brag about sharing a bed with a beautiful woman and _not_," Rick paused to wiggle his eyebrows suggestively. "You know?" His voice was low and rusty, making her shiver against his touch.

For a fraction of a second, the detective was simply a woman as her breath caught in her throat. The grin he wore grew by watts as he observed her flustered reaction. Recovering, she unfolded her crossed arms like a spider hunting its prey and her hands fell to his own waist. Two could play at this game.

Rick's smirk began to slip as her grip on his torso tightened and her sudden tip-toes propelled her impossibly closer to his face. The woman had an amazing ability at keeping eye contact; a skill she'd learnt in interrogations, he was sure. This felt a lot like an interrogation, actually. How had she flipped the tables on him? This was _his_ invasion of personal space. It was _his_ attempt to sooth her worries.

Kate's hair brushed his stumbled cheeks as she leant in to whisper into his ear. Her tone matched the huskiness of his.

"Maybe we should," she paused briefly to expel the final two words as a breath. "Change that."

Without pulling back, she could tell he had swallowed deeply as his chest expanded to barely graze her own. She had to get the punch line out. Quickly.

"I'm sure we can find you a hooker somewhere in this city."

The sun itself beamed from her face as she descended from her toes so that she could see his eyes. He wasn't laughing though. He wasn't even grinning like she thought he would. He looked dead serious and his hands floated from her hips, to briefly caress her elbows and then finally to hover in the small space between them.

Her smile faltered and her eyes drifted down to his hands as his nimble fingers plucked the strings of her hoody off of her chest. She watched as Rick slowly wound them around his fingers. Once. Then twice.

When he gently started pulling each string towards his own chest, the fabric of the hood bunched at the back of her neck and the momentum had her involuntarily leaning towards him. Kate's eyes were on his again, mixing in an impossibly hot shade of turquoise.

All remnants of humour had been forgotten, along with the cooked toast that was turning cold in its cradle. She caught the subtle shift of his eyes as they flickered to her mouth but she was not aware that her grip on him had tightened so much that his shirt was bunched in her fists.

Rick was agonizingly aware of everything. Her slightly parted lips. Her breathe on his neck. Her hands gripping his shirt. The cold air tickling the thin strip of skin above his waist band that the later had exposed.

He met her eyes again and his hands unconsciously reeled her even closer by the grip he still had on her strings. Neither one of them was thinking; a strange occurrence for both of the over-analysers. Rick began to lower his head, Kate raising hers impeccably slowly.

She inhaled a jagged breath, preparing for impact. The sudden rush of oxygen snapped her out of the daze. Glancing around him to avoid the eye contact which could only end with a kiss, she suddenly noticed something askew. "Did you eat my duck-bread?"

The man dangerously close to her scrunched his face up in an adorable way which would have pushed her over the edge if she'd been looking at him.

"You're what?" His voice was low; distracted.

"My duck-bread." Risking a glance back up to his face, she spotted confusion set heavily between his brows. "The bread that I feed to the ducks in the park."

Still holding the strings of her hoody, Rick glanced over his shoulder to where she was looking. He took in the site of the loaf of bread which he had eaten from for breakfast the day before.

"Oh. Yeah…?"

The turn of his head had brought his stubbled cheek even closer to her face and she did not hear his initial reply as the musky scent of masculinity clouded her senses. Her eyes followed the strong lines that ran up his neck from his clavicle to the flexing muscles in his jaw; her only acknowledgement that he had spoken at all.

Feeling a hot rush of air against his neck as her only reply, Rick turned back to face her, his hips unconsciously following hers backwards as she leant back to rest against the bench. His action did not draw him quite close enough to touch her, but it seemed to work like a magnet.

"Why?"

If the weather were any warmer he probably would have melted when her lips pinched to the side in an attempt to suppress the smile that pulled at her mouth.

"It's stale. The bottom slice has mould on it."

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><p><em>Author's Notes: Feedback is golden.<br>I've never stepped foot on American soil so I made up the hotels. They're lame names but whatever.  
><em>_I was inspired by a movie for part of this chapter. If you can guess which one I'll give you…well I can't really give you anything, but you're rad if you do!_


	17. Chapter 17

_Author's notes: My sincerest apologies to any of you lovely people who are _still_ reading this. This is going to be a pretty long A/N but…I love you all terribly for sticking around and I'm amazed that people are still adding this to their alerts and favourites even when I haven't updated for weeks. Thank you so much, it honestly means a lot and reviews especially brighten my days. Life has been crazy and when I've had 'spare time' I've either been writing the one shots (which you should probably go read - you know, if you want) that I posted not too long ago or planning a new multi chapter that I've had floating around in my head for weeks. _

_To be honest, I'm not feeling this story too much any more because it's not meeting my standards, so I think there will only be a couple more chapters. I feel that I just came into it too unorganised (and I'm a really organised person usually) so I've just been posting chapters as inspiration strikes, hence the delay. It has certainly been a learning experience so I don't regret it, but that's why the new story I'm cooking up is going to be planned, should anyone be interested in AU Caskett-y goodness…chuck me onto your author alerts if you're interested._

_I feel as though I should do a bit of a recap since I've taken so long to update.  
>- Castle is staying with Beckett because his apartment got infested with bugs. It's all a plan to get her to sleep and eat better.<em>

_- Alexis is staying at Ashley's parents' house._

_- Martha is staying…you'll find out…_

_- Castle spent the night in Beckett's bed with her because she didn't want him sleeping uncomfortably on the couch._

_- Batman suit, pillow talk, almost kiss in the kitchen, stale bread…ringing bells?_

_Cool, well without further delay, I present to you - CHAPTER 17!_

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><p>"It's stale. The bottom slice has mould on it."<p>

If Castle hadn't been admiring the diminishing shadows beneath her eyes, for which he felt partly responsible, his reaction probably would have been faster.

"Huh?"

"That bread." She lifted a hand to briefly flick an indicative finger towards the loaf sitting beside him on the bench. "It's mouldy. I feed it to the ducks in the park when I go out running. You ate it."

With a flip of his stomach, Kate's words finally reached him and his eyes went wide. "But – it's in the kitchen. It's next to the toaster!"

Her indicative finger landed on his chest, now an accusation, or a question, he wasn't really sure which. "Where else am I supposed to keep it – The Room of Requirement? And it's not next to the toaster. It's next to my pedometer! _That_ is next to the toaster." With one final flick of her wrist towards the second loaf of bread from which they were eating today's breakfast, Kate smirked at him. She could have sworn his face turned a slight shade of green.

"Oh God. I'm going to die!" With a genuinely disturbed face, Rick dramatically threw his head forward onto her shoulder.

His head was humorously heavy and she snorted with laughter as his dishevelled bed hair tickled her neck. "Castle, you ate it 24 hours ago. I think you'll live."

"Help, Kate. It hurts!" Rick's arms hung like dead weights in the small space between them and it reminded her of how a gorilla holds its arms.

Playing along, she tried to grab the hands at the ends of his swinging pendulums, with her voice full of mock concern. "What hurts, Rick?"

Letting her catch his hands in her own, he groaned in feigned pain as she stretched his arms out so that she could push him away from her. "Everything!"

Kate chuckled. "You were fine a minute ago." She finally pushed him far enough away so that she could see into his eyes, reading him.

He chuckled too, for other reasons. "I was more than fine a minute ago."

That hadn't been what she expected to read on his face. Since when did they speak of their silent looks? "Rick…" His name escaped on a final nervous chuckle that left her before they fell back into a brief wordless conversation. They spoke of hesitance and 'I love you's, and walls and jackhammers. She told him that so many bricks had already crumbled that he could almost step through; except she didn't, because she couldn't. "Breakfast is getting cold."

He told her that he understood. He would be ready and waiting to jump as soon as the wall reached his knees. "I'm never eating bread again." He wouldn't push; not yet.

._._._._._._._._.

The Greenacre was beginning to stir with the bustle of guests checking out or seeking breakfast by the time the detective/writer duo arrived. Cream coloured tiles welcomed them beyond heavy black and gold doors and the magnificently polished surface had Kate glad that she hadn't worn a dress that day. Castle would have taken a sudden interest in the floor, she was certain.

Drumming impatient fingertips across the countertop of the hotel's concierge desk, Castle fidgeted even more than he normally did, looking in all directions of the foyer for reasons unknown to the detective. Their car trip had been unusually quiet and she had found herself scrutinising their interactions in the kitchen for what felt like the thousandth time that morning. It was a little foolish, she knew. He had made his intentions clear and he didn't budge to run, even when she was pulled away by the hesitant strings of her heart.

Refocusing her questioning glare from the writer to the elderly gentleman behind the high rise desk which matched the colours of the front doors, Detective Beckett brushed off the insecurities which were not needed for the job. A piece of paper which was of far better quality than anything they had at the precinct was handed to her and she smiled a thank you before heading for the elevator. She quickly scanned the sheet before hitting the glowing button for the second floor. If all of the convention attendees on the list were still checked in, it looked like she and Castle would be making the rounds of the majority of the hotel.

They wandered the elaborate stretches of hallways in relative silence and Kate wondered if they were playing a game of laser tag that she didn't know about. At each intersection of corridors Castle would bound a few steps ahead of her and take a quick look around the corner before continuing on casually like nothing had happened. She smirked at his antics a few times and on the occasion that he caught her, he would grin back in a way that made her almost forget how strange he was acting.

Most of the doors they knocked on were opened quickly by twenty-something's scratching their heads in confusion at being woken up so early. Door 42 though, was opened after quite a few moments of Beckett rapping her fingers against it by an older balding man who wore Batman pyjamas that barely reached around his wide waist line. He spoke very little English and didn't say much more than an excited "Super powers!" when they tried to question him about the convention.

All composure at the amusing scene was lost the very second he closed the door and the partners leaned onto each other in deep gasps of laughter. By the time they'd stumbled to the next door on their list, Kate's breathing was returning to normal as she looked at the watery eyed man beside her.

"You should get jammies like that, Castle!"

It was fun – like her job so often became with him around. She'd told him that once. Kate just hoped he'd believed her; she was so very grateful for his presence, even if she didn't always show it.

Sometime later, and three floors higher, Castle's mission impossible way of rounding corners suddenly changed. He stopped dead in his tracks and backed up, attempting to block her path. Of course, she didn't have time for his games after spending so much tedious time roaming the hotel so she shouldered past him and rounded the corner. The sight was far from anything she had expected. A sheepish Castle finally followed when she spoke.

"Martha! What are you doing here?"

"Richard didn't tell you? I'm staying here, dear."

Beckett came to a startling halt, reeling her head in such a large motion towards Castle that her hair was left swinging at her shoulders. With lips pursed and brow lowered, she offered him one single deathly word in a tone that gave him chills.

"Couch."

He froze, caught red handed. So much for not being able to find a hotel to stay in. That scheming, lying, little-

The redhead chuckled at their interaction. "Looks like it's time for you to make yourself scarce, sonny."

Rick looked at his mother with wide eyes before glancing at his watch, nodding and turned back to his partner. "Look at the time – coffee break!"

Even on pursuit of criminals, she had never seen him move as fast as he did then, almost running back towards the elevator. With narrowed eyes and a clenched jaw, Kate turned to Martha with a questioning look.

"You should have seen him before he met you." The older woman waved his actions off with a flick of her slender hand. "What are you two doing here anyway? Has someone been murdered?"

For someone her age, the drama queen seemed a little too excited by the idea of murder in her hotel. Drawing comparisons to her son's morbid curiosity, Kate couldn't help but smile as she replied, even if Castle was currently in her bad book. "No, no. We're just interviewing potential witnesses." Compelled by an inexplicable need to please, she elaborated. "There was a murder at the convention Rick and Alexis went to yesterday and we believe some of the guests staying here might have seen something."

"A murder at the convention?" The shrill gasp that escaped was indication that she was obviously hearing the news for the first time. "Wait until I get my hands on those two!"

Cringing at having accidentally outed them and for worrying the woman, Kate struggled against the underlying compulsion to grin. Good, Castle deserved to be harassed by his mother for not telling her such things. It was a little childish, she knew, but so was lying your way into someone's bed. He would have to pay.

"Oh, but I will tell you one thing, my girl. I overheard some pip squeak at the bar last night telling his buddy about some disturbing stuff," Martha, the ever knowing gossip. "You should check for I.D. while you're here. Honestly, some of these kids are still in diapers!"

Kate smiled at the enthusiastic woman. "Do you know what floor he's staying on?"

"Four, I think." A dramatic hand came to rest on her chin as she thought for a moment. In a flurry of movement the hand made an audible snap before pointing directly at the detective. "No - it was the third floor! I distinctively remember him saying that bad things always happen in threes and that he thought it was ironic that he was staying on the third."

She cringed internally again at the use of 'irony', for which Castle would not have approved. "Thank you, Martha." Kate brushed her palm briefly against the woman's upper arm in acknowledgement. "You've been a big help, we'll look into it."

With a nonchalant shrug of her shoulders, Martha returned the subtle touch as way of halting the younger woman's retraction. "Kate?" She did not wait long enough for an answer before ploughing forward. "Don't be too hard on Richard, will you? They only had one room left because of all these kids floating around. I couldn't have him interfering with my grey-dar."

A quick squeeze of the arm later, accompanied by a knowing wink, Richard Castle's mother ended their conversation without notice and strode away down the long stretch of hall with more sass than the slightly stunned detective could ever muster. How could she act out against such a request?

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><p><em>Author's Notes: So, after having not updated in ages, I hope this chapter didn't disappoint! Let me know if there's anything you'd like to see before The 12th comes to an end =). Oh, and the movie reference from the last chapter was She's The Man…because who doesn't like a bit of Channing Tatum on their screen?<em>


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